


The Waning Crescent

by InTheName



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Enchanted Forest (Once Upon a Time), Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheName/pseuds/InTheName
Summary: Two rival kingdoms face a common threat. From each, a warrior fated to rise and save them. Their destinies intertwined, only one kingdom can prevail over the Dark One.Emma has trained her whole life for this. But when she meets the warrior from the other kingdom, her rival cloaked in mysterious power and dark smiles, Emma thinks her training might not be enough to get her through this.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66
Collections: Swan Queen Supernova V: Forever Starstruck





	The Waning Crescent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cesibear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cesibear/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Waning Crescent [Protostar]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26208322) by [cesibear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cesibear/pseuds/cesibear). 



> First off, thank you to cesibear for the absolutely stunning, captivating, and completely inspiring art. I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did your artwork.
> 
> Second, thank you to linds, and tara for the moral support throughout this process. 
> 
> Finally, huge thank you to hope, for all the help with brainstorming, working through the questions that kept popping up, and of course for beta-ing this fic. This fic wouldn't be what it is today without you.
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you all enjoy!

**_The New Moon_ **

__

_ One of Darkness will cast their shadow _

_ Unto Kingdoms fallen from glory _

_ Their Warrior will break the downthrow _

_ A confrontation of ebony and ivory _

__

_ What was lost will be found _

_ What was dark will find light _

_ One Kingdom shall be crowned _

_ Peace will flow at the ebb of night _

Emma knew the words by heart. The refrains had been following her steps since before she’d learned to read. Instead of lullabies or folktales, Emma had been coaxed to sleep to the smooth stylings of an impending obligation.

At every turn, Emma had faced the prophecy. In lessons of swordsmanship, in lectures of the kingdom’s history, in compliments paid at formal balls.

_ You’ll make a fine warrior. _

Other girls Emma’s age might have been praised for their drawings, their manners, their equestrian prowess. For Emma, they were preoccupied with her athletic build, her strength, her technique with a weapon. From the age Emma could comprehend the compliments given to her, it had been evident where her value lay.

A door opening drew Emma’s attention away from the prophecy encased in the glass display case before her. Emma stepped back from the case and turned to face the door.

“Emma, good, I thought you might be in here.” Queen Snow addressed her with a hint of affection in her tone. Emma nodded, and Queen Snow walked over to stand beside her. She faced the prophecy. Emma could feel the awe it drew out of the Queen as a physical force. Imagine, to wield such influence over all who neared it. Emma supposed the Queen held that property as well, in a sense. Emma didn’t much envy her that. “I must have read these words a thousand times.”

Emma hummed her agreement, though she didn’t share the wistfulness evident in Queen Snow’s tone.

“And now, today, we have our warrior.” Queen Snow’s eyes were teary as she turned back to Emma. She took Emma’s hands in hers and Emma didn’t stop her. “The trials are designed to break the weak from the strong, to whittle competitors down to a single champion. I never doubted it would be you. Still, you cannot fathom how proud I am of you.”

Emma didn’t feel pride, so much as she felt sore. Exhausted. Numb. She wasn’t convinced she hadn’t been a little bit broken in those trials. A lifetime of training only brought her so far. But, there was only one option, to win and be the kingdom’s champion. It wasn’t going to happen any other way. At times, Emma wondered if her parents hadn’t been molding her into the weapon, rather than the warrior. 

“Before we go out there, and get lost in the ceremony of it all, I have something for you.” Queen Snow pulled something out from the folds of her skirt. She set a small, ornate box on the table next to the display case. Her slender hands carefully unlatched the lid, with a reverence reserved for few objects, or people for that manner. Lithe fingers lifted the top delicately, as if opening the container abruptly might offend the heirloom that lay within.

“This is our kingdom’s greatest weapon. Well, in the absence of the  _ Maegenwudu _ it is. I cannot say what awaits you on your journey, but with this in your possession, you’ll be well-prepared,” Queen Snow said, as she lifted a small dagger from the bed of silk. It glinted in the stream of sunlight coming in from the window. The workmanship of its construction was immaculate. Emma wasn’t sure even their finest blacksmith could produce such elegance.

“Thank you,” Emma breathed, moving to take the dagger, aching to hold it in her grasp. Queen Snow was already putting it away, handing her the closed box instead. Emma took it as if she’d not meant anything else. 

Queen Snow smiled, touched her cheek in parting and left the room. Emma stared at the box in her hands, before her eyes drifted back to the prophecy by a force stronger than gravity itself.

Minutes could have gone by, even hours. Emma was lost in the moment, in the moment before it all began. She thought of nothing and everything at once; she wouldn’t have been able to speak to her surroundings, if pressed. There was a sound of a door opening that brought Emma back to the present.

“The court is waiting for you, Princess,” a royal footman announced from the open door. Emma nodded and took one last breath. She had to consciously tear her eyes from the case.

No, there was never going to be an escape for her. A princess must fulfil her duty to the kingdom, more so when it’s tied to her destiny. It was never going to happen any other way.

“Oh, and Princess?” the footman said tentatively. Emma gave him a slight nod. He proceeded with a light blush to his cheeks. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” Emma answered with another nod.

Emma set her shoulders and her smile, and walked out to where the cheering crowd awaited.

***

As far as ceremonies went, Emma decided she had attended worse, had been the centre of attention at worse. At least it hadn’t been too long. The self-congratulatory speeches and toasts had set Emma’s teeth on edge, but they’d been kept short. Under the guise of needing to be well-rested, Emma was able to leave the ensuing festivities early.

Now, the real work began. The work she’d been training her whole life for. And, well, the real work was pretty boring, if Emma was being honest.

It’s just that, nothing had really changed?

She had spent years waiting for the trials, waiting to be selected as the kingdom’s fiercest warrior. And now, she was waiting still.

Apparently, the Dark One didn’t abide by the Beadur Kingdom’s schedule. You wouldn’t have guessed it, based on how her parents spoke of their plans to fulfil the prophecy. As if a duel marking Emma’s 18th birthday would be the instigator for the Dark One to cast their catastrophic curse. As the days passed, as uneventful as each day prior, Queen Snow grew noticeably more irritable.

Her parents didn’t talk about the kingdom policies with her often – Emma had to purposefully quiet the voice in her head that suggested her parents weren’t convinced she’d arrive on the other side of the prophecy in a state fit to rule. But if Emma had to guess, they had probably placed a great many eggs into this prophecy’s basket without a contingency. Certainly, they’d invested trainers, weapons, and a large majority of Emma’s youth.

The tensions were running high in the castle, so Emma took to spending most of her days beyond the castle walls. She’d wake up with the break of dawn and sneak into the kitchens to grab something light for breakfast that she could take on the road. And then, it was wherever the road would take her. Until about noon, when her stomach steered her toward the village.

While Emma wanted to savour the (certainly finite, yet uncertainly defined) time she had before embarking on her journey, she knew she couldn’t neglect her training. At this point, it was all maintenance. It was important if she was going to stand a chance against the Baloc Kingdom’s strongest warrior.

While the details had always been ambiguous, Emma knew the steps of her destiny like the steps of her morning routine. Wake up, brush her teeth and hair, get dressed in an uncomfortable corseted gown, have breakfast with her mother while her father met with his advisors. Become the Beadur Kingdom’s best warrior, find the lost weapon, fight the warrior from Baloc for it, defeat the Dark One.

Her parents and tutors had been pretty clear on the first part. That which was lost, which could defeat the Dark One, could only be one weapon, of myths and legends. Lost to the Beadur Kingdom since the battle of Rotchsire that had been fought half a century ago.

Once, the two kingdoms would ride side by side into battle, united in their fight against a common enemy. Once, one kingdom’s prosperity would bring the other’s; one kingdom’s failure defeated both.

The Battle of Rotchsire should have been the same, following in the footsteps of years of collaboration before it. The Beadur Kingdom went into battle with confidence, and their strongest weapon – a long spear with edges that could shear flesh from bone with the ease of spreading paint on a canvas. The  _ Maegenwudu _ , they called it. Armed with their weapons and allies, the Beadur Kingdom thought they couldn’t lose. But in the face of the Dragon Army, the Baloc Kingdom betrayed the Beadur Kingdom. All sides saw defeat that day. All tasted loss. The Beadur Kingdom lost acres of farmland to the Baloc Kingdom that day, had to rebuild themselves while the dragons feasted on their animals. They lost the lives of their soldiers, and the livelihood of their families. They lost the  _ Maegenwudu _ and the beacon of hope it carried.

The Dragon Army migrated south when they couldn’t withstand the harsh winters of the north. After all the Beadurian army had fought for, after all they had lost, the Dragon Army just left. Over the years, the tale of dragons had been left to the histories. But the bitter taste of betrayal remained in the mouths of the Beadurians across the kingdom.

They had only just rebuilt themselves, figuring out how to feed their citizens with less land, when the Dark One had surfaced. Or perhaps, resurfaced. In stories of old, an ancient being with powers beyond the constitution of mortals wreaked havoc on their villages. Accounts of the Dark One’s influence were vague, often attributing their influence to magical prowess. Peppered throughout stories from different eras, Emma had thought the Dark One akin to the Boogey Man, fabled as lore to keep children from misbehaving. Until, the Dark One had returned. No one knew how or why, but they were faced with destruction they’d believed to be the content of myths. Desperation thickened the air, bringing out the tensions they’d hoped to keep dormant.

And then, the prophecy had arisen. It had been the hope the Beadur Kingdom had been searching for, and had given them the strength to keep fighting. If they could stay in the battle just so long as their warrior could rise with the  _ Maegenwudu _ , they had a chance. So, they fought. And Emma trained.

She knew the history by rote, could wield a weapon against any opponent. But the second part of the prophecy, promising the defeat of the Dark One… that was something Emma preferred not to contemplate. No one had gone up against the Dark One themselves and lived to tell the tale. But, her father had assured her that with the  _ Maegenwudu _ in her hands, she’d know what to do.

She hoped he was right.

He’d also promised that they’d know when her journey was to begin. When the Dark One casts their shadow. Emma saw it now in the shadows of castle walls against the barren fields, as shadows of what they’d once been in a prosperous kingdom, in the shadows below her eyes. These shadows were familiar, the legacy of a broken kingdom. This was not the Dark One’s curse.

Then, on the night of the New Moon, the skies turned red.

“It’s time,” King David said at breakfast the next morning, the room awash in an amber glow. Emma nodded, feeling the change in her bones that she saw with her eyes. They did not discuss it further. What more could be said that hadn’t been fit into the curriculum of a lifetime of training?

Her mother could hardly make eye contact, and Emma could hardly bring herself to eat. But she knew the journey ahead would be challenging even with proper sustenance. She needed the energy, but the food felt like ash in her mouth. It left a bitter taste.

Her bag had been packed for weeks, but Emma checked it over one last time. Everything she needed to survive in the woods, an assortment of weapons she’d use to hunt and take down any obstacles in her way. She’d be on her own, but with the best preparation her parents could offer.

One last look at the room she’d always known she’d leave behind, and Emma left. She didn’t feel nostalgia, apprehension or fear. This was what she’d been born for. And she’d been born ready.

Her parents waited for her in the entrance hall. Emma nodded to them, and went to say her goodbyes when movement from the corner of the room caught her eye. An animal, with fur as dark as the grey stone wall behind it, watched her every move.

“A wolf?” Emma blinked at the creature in disbelief. He didn’t seem too impressed with her either.

“You didn’t think we’d let you go on this journey on your own, did you?” Queen Snow teased, as if Emma were the one acting strangely. Emma didn’t take her eyes off the wolf. It looked like he’d come up to about hip height. The wolf snarled, baring sharp teeth. Emma wasn’t struck with an impression of being a welcomed companion. “You don’t have to walk alone in this.”

“You know that a wolf doesn’t make for a great battle partner, right?” Emma asked. “Doesn’t make a partner at all. Can it sniff out long lost weapons? Because I can’t think of any help a wolf could offer. Will it dog my steps as I walk, waiting for me to stumble so that it may pounce? If it doesn’t run away to do its own… wolf things.”

“When the time comes, you’ll see how Louis will help you.” Queen Snow started getting a bit teary eyed, and pulled her into a smothering hug.

“That’s code for you don’t know either,” Emma mumbled into the shoulder of her mother’s dress, thinking the wolf would sooner have her for dinner than offer its assistance. Best to keep it well-fed then.

“Take care, my sweet daughter. I know you’ll fight valiantly.” Queen Snow pulled away but kept her hands on Emma’s shoulders. Her father’s hand joined them.

“Do our kingdom proud.”

***

**_The Waxing Crescent_ **

The journey to the site of the Battle of Rotchsire spanned five days’ time. The terrain was challenging, with mountains between the castle and the site. Along the way, Emma passed through abandoned villages that hadn’t made it through the famines and wars that had plagued their land. The devastation, the loss, seeped into Emma’s core. She never stayed long enough to sit with it, with what it meant for the people who had lived here, who once had thrived here. She’d take cover for the night in an old building, perhaps once a shopfront or a home. One night, she stayed in an old schoolhouse. The ghosts of lives just beginning to learn about their world haunted her sleep that night. She didn’t make that mistake again.

Emma didn’t stop to ponder how the impact of her kingdom’s hardships had been grossly understated in her history lessons.

She kept her momentum, setting her sights on a destination that once had been within her kingdom’s borders. The land on which the battle reigned had been absorbed by the Baloc Kingdom, as were the acres around it. As Emma neared, she saw just what had become of the villages that had not been within their amended borders. One could hardly call them villages now. The buildings there were not abandoned, they were ruins.

Throughout her travels, Louis walked by her side. He made a surprisingly good companion. He kept a good pace, hunted for his own food, and didn’t try to make small talk. So, Emma supposed she could have done worse.

Emma could see Fort Rotcshire, for which the historic battle had been named, in the distance on the fifth day of her journey.

“Hey, Louis, looks like we’re headed in the right direction,” Emma said as she climbed the last of a particularly rocky hill. There was a reason they had chosen this spot to build the fort. From the top, they’d be able to see enemy combatants coming from any direction, long before their arrival. Plenty of time to prepare for battle. “Guess we’ll be fulfilling that prophecy after all. Don’t worry, it’s all downhill from here.”

Louis snorted from where he was waiting for her at the top. He’d taken the hill at a run, his muscled legs easily bounding from one rock to the next. The wolf wasn’t weighed down by a heavy pack though, Emma noted. That must be it.

Emma stopped once she reached the top. She dug out her water flask from her pack. It was light. Emma frowned at it and took a sip. Just one, as that was all it held.

“Damn,” Emma swore. She listened for the sound of running water, heard it in a direction only slightly off course. “Okay, change of plans Louis, we’re headed east.”

It was a short walk before Emma could see the stream. It appeared she wasn’t the only one in need of water. Bent down next to the stream, collecting water in what looked to be a bowl, was a woman. Slender, dark hair, dressed in all black. That was all Emma could tell from this distance. Seeing someone else in these parts was unexpected, to say the least. The dragon fire from the Battle of Rotchsire had scorched the land, rendering it infertile. Villages that had been destroyed had not been able to rebuild, on either side of the battle site.

Emma took a few steps forward, and nearly tripped on something near her feet. She reached out to steady herself against a nearby tree branch, but it broke off in her hold and then she really did fall. She startled Louis, who ran a few feet ahead, getting out of the way of Emma’s falling form. That managed to catch the attention of the woman at the river, who had abandoned her task and was approaching quickly.

Emma scrambled to her feet. So much for this being the easy leg of the journey.

“Who are you?” the woman asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she squinted at Emma. She was still about a hundred metres out. Emma regained her footing, and took stock of Louis. He was about midway between the two of them, watching from a raised rockface. So, it looked like Emma had been right about where Louis would stand in the face of danger.

Danger might have been an overstatement. The woman wasn’t an intimidating figure. Not very tall, and didn’t look built like a fighter. Still, there was no logical reason a woman should be in these woods at all.

“Who are  _ you _ ?” Emma countered, her hand settling on the hilt of the dagger strapped to her waist. Just in case.

The woman scoffed, and kept striding forward. She looked over at the wolf, but didn’t appear frightened by its presence.

“Who’s your friend?” the woman asked. Emma blinked at her.

“That’s Louis,” Emma answered. As the woman neared, Emma could better distinguish her features. She had dark eyes, a straight nose and cut jaw. Full lips were pursed into a scowl as she surveyed the ground near Emma’s feet. Emma took it all in. With the coloured sun, the planes of her face and neck seemed to flash a warning sign. Emma would say red was probably her colour.

“You should keep better control over your pet,” the woman admonished. Emma thought she seemed less on guard and more on the offense. “He’s ruined a very carefully laid out spell.”

Emma looked at where the woman was gesturing, and saw a crushed candle and a marred line of salt where she had tripped. It hadn’t been the underbrush that had caught her foot.

“Oh, that wasn’t Louis, that was—” Emma cut herself off midsentence, thinking better of admitting to this possibly-dangerous-but-definitely-irate woman that she’d been the one to mess up her work.

“Better control over your own feet, then, hm?” The woman lifted an eyebrow. She moved forward and bent down to rearrange the broken line near Emma’s feet. Emma’s eyes followed the curve of her back before she side-stepped to give her more room. Just in time, she checked the ground for more items that ought not to be disturbed, and narrowly missed stepping on a bundle of herbs tied together. “Damn it, this candle is useless like this. It needs mending. Do you make it a habit of traipsing through the woods without looking where you’re going, ruining spells that are being cast?”

“Uh…” Emma wasn’t sure there was a right answer here. She took another careful step away from the volatile woman. “Actually, I knew exactly where I was going. I’m just, more of a big picture kind of gal. I’m actually nearly at the For—er, I should get back to where I’m going. Louis, c’mon boy let’s leave this lady to her, um, did you say spell?”

The woman’s eyes widened in recognition, and she stood up slowly, cradling the remains of the candle in her hands. Emma was certain they’d never met before, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be forgetting this face. 

“You’re from the Beadur Kingdom,” the woman stated, her expression carefully stoic. Emma could have sworn she’d paled some, but it was hard to tell in this lighting.

“You’re not from the Beadur Kingdom,” Emma said, confused. How did she know where Emma was from? And back to her earlier question: just what was this woman doing here? “What are you doing out here, the nearest village is over two days’ journey from here.”

“I’d imagine I’m here for the same reason you are,” the woman said coolly. Emma felt ice down her spine, and she stiffened. Her posture drew upright and on guard, she drew the dagger from its sheath. The woman clucked her tongue, shaking her head. 

“You’re the Baloc’s warrior,” Emma breathed. It was too soon. She didn’t have the weapon yet. The Dark One casts their shadow. Then find the weapon,  _ then _ defeat the other kingdom’s warrior. This was too soon.

“And you’re the Beadurian knight, I gather.” The woman hadn’t drawn any weapon, was looking at her with a sneer on her lips, but a curiosity burning deep in those dark eyes.

“So, this is the part where we fight?” Emma didn’t mean for it to leave as a question. She’d meant it as a challenge, but it seemed her tongue had something else in mind.

“Do you want to fight?” The woman seemed amused. Which, was completely unbefitting of the situation. Emma’s heart was beating out of her chest, she’d broken out in a sweat. Yet, the woman before her had made no move to attack.

“I, uh,” Emma contemplated the question. “Not really?” She shrugged. Emma wasn’t convinced this was actually an offer.

“Well, I suppose you have about, well…” The woman looked up at the sky between the treetops. “I’d say three weeks to sort that out? I could use the extra time myself, since I’ll now have to repair the candle you’ve broken. Or was that part of your plan?” The woman’s eyes snapped back to Emma’s, piercing, searching. “A clumsy plan, I’d say.”

“What? No, that wasn’t part of my plan,” Emma rambled quickly. “I didn’t have a plan. Wait, three weeks? Why three weeks?”

The woman seemed taken aback by the question.

“It’s three weeks until the new moon,” the woman said, as if she were stating the obvious. As if it should be clear why that was relevant.

“Um, okay. Right, the new moon.” Emma said, squinting her eyes slightly as if they could make sense of the conversation before her. “Uh, what does that have to do with our preordained battle?”

“What does it have to do with—?” The woman had gone from confusion to outright disbelief. “Did you prepare at all for this?”

“What do you mean, I’ve been training my whole life for this!” Emma huffed. She spun the dagger around in her hand and regripped it in a position ready for attack. Just to prove her point. Not to show off.

The woman eyed her up and down, as a predator might survey its prey.

“I can see that,” she said, and if Emma wasn’t halfway certain they were about to fight, she might have thought it sultry. “But clearly there’s been some oversight, if you don’t know the significance of the new moon.”

“Enlighten me then,” Emma spat out, the back and forth in this conversation grating on her nerves. She wasn’t used to not having the upper hand.

“I assume you know of the prophecy,” the woman started, just dripping with condescension.

“Of course, I know of the prophecy,” Emma nearly yelled. Still, her voice was tight, the internal struggle to retain her temper clear. “The Dark One will cast their shadow.” Emma gestured at the red sky above them. “Shadow, cast.”

“Yes, but do you know the intent of the shadow, what it means?” the woman probed. Emma felt like she was back in her tutor’s lessons, being asked a question with no right answer. Or at least, not one she’d studied for.

“The shadow is a curse,” Emma recited, losing patience.

“And?” This woman was very quickly getting on her nerves.

“And? It’s a curse! So, I’ve got to find the  _ Maegenwudu _ , defeat your sorry ass, and go save my kingdom!” Emma replied.

“The Dark One’s curse is old magic,” the woman said, apparently accepting that Emma didn’t know more than what she was saying. “It will take a complete lunar cycle to gain its power. To take root, so to speak. So, we have a month. Well, three weeks now.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. The woman shifted, like a hen with ruffled feathers. Apparently, that was the wrong answer here.

“Why do you think the prophecy started with this curse at all?” The woman's shoulders were tense as she gestured at the sky with one arm. Perhaps insulting her belief wasn’t the right move in this match. Emma grimaced. “Why not just find the Spell of Hredsigor years ago and save ourselves the pain the Dark One has inflicted in the meantime? It’s because magic comes at a cost. While the Dark One is casting this curse, they are weakened. That’s why we have a window to strike! Gods, did they teach you nothing in your kingdom? They’ve sent you as a lamb to a slaughter.”

Emma blinked. She blinked again. She looked over at where Louis was still sitting, watching them carefully. Seriously? This wolf wasn’t getting a hint of danger from this interaction? So much for back up.

She was no lamb. Between the two of them, she was the only one armed. At least, visibly so.

“My kingdom prepared me plenty, I—," Emma stopped, her forming thought interrupted by another. “Wait, the spell of Hreds-sh-something? What the hell is that? We’re supposed to be looking for the  _ Maegenwudu _ , the weapon lost in the Battle of Rotchsire. The only thing in this land powerful enough to defeat the Dark One.” 

“You think the Dark One can be taken down by, what, a sword?” The woman had the audacity to laugh. “The Dark One wields old magic, we only have a chance with a spell just as ancient. One brought here by the Dragon Army. They hid it in the battle, not trusting the mortal witches with it, lest we overthrow them.”

“You think the Dragon Army brought magic that could defeat the Dark One and just, left it here?” Emma furrowed her brow. Why would they bring magic but then fight with weapons? Why bring a spell you aren’t going to use? The questions swirled around Emma’s mind faster than she could voice them. “And it’s a spear, not a sword.” That fact stood out as important among the storm of questions. Or perhaps, just more concrete, grounded in reality whereas the rest were…

“Myths and legends,” the woman muttered. Emma’s eyes snapped back, along with her focus. The woman shook her head. “Clearly we have different histories, where we’re from.”

Emma’s features scrunched into what was becoming an all too familiar frown.

“Clearly,” Emma said, voice hollow. A beat passed, and Emma shifted her weight back and forth between her feet.

“Well, it’s starting to get dark,” Emma nodded upward. “Or, darker I suppose. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Where will you go?” the woman asked, incredulity interwoven in her words.

“To make camp,” Emma shrugged. “Try not to murder me in my sleep.”

The woman smirked. “Don’t worry, I only brought spells to kill you while awake,” the woman said. 

“I may not have the  _ Maegenwudu _ yet, but I’m no less lethal,” Emma warned. “If we both have tasks at hand, I’d say it’s in our best interest to have an impasse on this,” Emma gestured between the two of them with her index finger, “for the time being.”

“I’d be inclined to agree,” the woman replied with a glint in her brown eyes. Emma nodded and made to leave.

“Wait,” the woman said. Emma paused, angled sideways as she glanced back at the woman. “You didn’t tell me your name, earlier.”

Emma smiled.

“Emma.”

“Well, Emma, I would say it’s nice to meet you, but I haven’t decided yet.” The woman’s tone was thoughtful. “I’m Regina.”

“Regina,” Emma tried out. Regina nodded. “Likewise.”

At this Regina actually laughed.

Emma chuckled and turned away. This time, Louis followed. She found a small clearing a couple hundred metres away, and decided to make camp under a tree nearby. With her tent set up, Emma started on making a fire in the clearing.

The entirety of the altercation with Regina had given her whiplash, and lingering adrenaline ran through her body in jolts. Her body wasn’t quite sure whether or not she was in danger here. On the one hand, they had seemed to reach a temporary truce, an agreement to put off their fated fight until later in the moon cycle. On the other hand, it was clear Regina’s strengths that had deemed her worthy of the title of fiercest warrior of the Baloc Kingdom were in metric completely foreign to Emma’s. She had thought if she had trained hard, had gained enough physical strength, that when the time came she’d be unmatched against her opponent. But, it seemed Regina was on another playing field entirely. Emma made a mental note to keep her dagger close as she slept.

The fire caught, finally. Emma smiled as she stoked the flame, urging it to spread to the thick wood that would keep it live for a while yet. She’d need to burn it to embers, but for now the warmth provided by the fire was welcomed.

Slowly, the adrenaline dissipated and the chill ebbed. With them, the thoughts running through her mind burnt out. Emma looked up through the tree tops at a sky clear of clouds. Above her, the crescent moon shone bright.

***

**_The First Quarter_ **

Emma didn’t wake with the rise of the sun, but rather to the rumble of her stomach. Last night’s catch had been meager; she’d have to lay traps to get larger game today. Perhaps a rabbit, if Louis wasn’t prowling around the vicinity all day.

The stars were still visible in the sky, bright against a blood red backdrop. Where Emma might once have felt awe, looking up at the stars like this, now she felt wary. There was a weight to the atmosphere that felt downright eerie. Emma would be grateful when the skies returned to their original blue.

She supposed she’d have many reasons to be grateful then, should she succeed. And if not, well, surely she’d still be able to admire the blue skies while looking down.

Another growl broke the silence.

Well, she’d not be admiring anything on an empty stomach.

Emma started the day, trying to focus on the task in front of her rather than let her mind wander to looming destinies and mysterious witches. She was well practiced in the art of tuning it out, had to be, if she wanted to survive the stifling Beadurian castle. At every turn, she could be confronted with the expectations of her. So, she focused on one step, one task, one day at a time.

And one step after another was how Emma found herself searching Fort Rotchsire. The grounds were overgrown, and Emma was careful to note what path her feet traced. When she wound up at the Fort, what had once been a protective shelter, she turned to look at the plains of field and forest below. It would take days to search it all.

Emma sighed. It would take longer if she didn’t get going.

The outside of the Fort was weathered, the subject of neglect and harsh winters. But the inside was remarkably well-preserved. Emma found a door loose from its hinges and managed to squeeze into what appeared to be the armoury. She figured this was probably a fair place to start. Apt, at the very least. Though it was probably a little too on the nose to find a powerful weapon in the abandoned armoury. 

It certainly wouldn’t be quite the challenge she’d been told to expect. She’d been told the  _ Maegenwudu _ had likely been hidden by the Balocese in battle, who hadn’t known its power, but had considered its value in the loss it would pose to the Beadurians. An echo of their betrayal in battle, perhaps, but the knife to the back of the dying knight still bled.

She’d been told it might even be warded. But if the  _ Maegenwudu  _ was in this room, the only wards were the obstacles of fallen swords and maces that littered the floor. Animals had surely found their way inside, much as Emma had. Emma hoped not to cause the same destruction in her wake.

As suspected, the  _ Maegenwudu  _ was not in the armoury. Emma continued her search, finding the rest of the interior in less disarray. She walked past the kitchen, where the cupboards had been raided for their edible contents, yet a single place setting at the table remained untouched. The walls of the hallway were lined with sconces that kept their candles, though they’d need to be rid of the cobwebs before they’d be safe to light. The wallpaper was peeling in places, faded in colour. Of course, with the red haze that trickled in through the broken windows, it was hard to say what the colour would have been in its prime anyway.

Emma walked past sleeping quarters, where night clothes lay folded at the ends of made beds. A toothbrush had been left on the bathroom sink. The Fort made noises as she walked among the shadows of its former glory. She got the sense she was being watched, yet every glance over her shoulder proved she was alone.

It was late in the afternoon when Emma had finished her search of the main floor. She’d need to get started on dinner if she was to cook while there was light enough to see by. She was dreading returning to search the Fort’s basement level. But if she was going to find one spear in a battle ground that spanned acres, she’d have to be systematic about it.

When she made it back to her campsite, she checked her pack and her tent for any signs of tampering. There were none, at least, as far as she could tell. She hadn’t exactly taken inventory before she left. Maybe she ought to start.

Emma checked the traps she’d set in the morning and was pleased to find she’d snared a hare. It was important she keep her strength up, and catches like yesterday’s weren’t going to cut it. This would do nicely, might even render her uncomfortably full. Emma supposed she could smoke the leftovers, in theory. But it would take precious time from her hunt for the  _ Maegenwudu,  _ at least half a day’s worth, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted from her mission.

Emma grabbed her flask of water to take a drink, only to find it empty again. Strange how that seemed to happen regularly. Emma wished she’d brought a bigger flask with her.

Sighing, Emma dragged her feet down toward the river. She walked a straight path, watching as she stepped, and landed not a metre from Regina. She had set up camp nearby, and it looked like she was preparing something in a small bowl. After their initial meeting, Emma didn’t want to make any assumptions as to what it was, or what she was planning to do with it.

“Hi,” Emma said, as she bent down to fill her flask. It seemed a bit too informal a greeting for her rival. Emma supposed Regina could even be considered her nemesis. She’d only been preparing for their face-off her whole life. She just, hadn’t anticipated her nemesis would be so… intriguing.

“Hi,” Regina answered. It rang just as informal from her lips, though Emma thought it sounded infinitely better. “Busy day?”

Emma shook her head, let her lips form a smirk before schooling her features into something less revealing as she turned to face Regina.

“Sure, you could say that,” Emma said. Her eyes trailed over the way Regina’s brown hair fell in curls around her shoulders. It reflected the light from the setting sun. They were in the middle of the woods; presumably Regina had also travelled for days to get here. How the hell was it so shiny?

Emma then realized she was staring, caught a hint of a smile playing at the edge of Regina’s lips, and quickly looked away. The ground near her feet was suddenly fascinating. Nearby, Emma recognized the candle from last night, though it was significantly less broken. 

“I see you’ve been busy, yourself.” Emma nodded at the candle.

“Mm, yes, well that was the easy fix.” Regina shrugged. She leaned over and picked up the candle to cradle it in her hands. Long fingers curled tenderly around the wax. Emma noticed her fingernails were trimmed, not digging into the body of the candle. “The rest will take time.”

Emma scrunched her nose, and her eyebrows drew together. Regina put the candle down beside her and picked her bowl back up, along with the spoon she’d been using to stir.

“It looks good to go to me, what more could it need?” Emma inquired. Regina took a spoonful of the contents, some sort of grains, perhaps, and brought it to her mouth. Emma watched in horror as she chewed. That mess had to defy some law of nature.

“It needs to charge,” Regina answered, licking straggling grains from her teeth. At Emma’s silence, she sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to explain that to you as well. Do they really not perform any magic in your kingdom? Surely a rudimentary level of understanding would be basic level education.”

“Must have missed that lesson.” Emma shrugged. “Why don’t you fill me in over dinner. I’ll even share my rabbit with you. I can’t stand to watch you stomach anymore of… whatever that is,” Emma added when it looked like Regina might protest. Regina smirked, a playful gleam in her eye.

“How chivalrous,” Regina said, voice low. “This dish is a delicacy of my village, actually.” She put down her bowl anyway. Emma snorted.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Emma said.

“Hm, perceptive,” Regina laughed. She rose to stand. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you have many talents, chosen as the Beadurian knight as you are. Alright, Emma. Lead the way.”

It occurred to Emma that showing Regina the way to her camp might not have been in her best interest. Immediately after that thought, it occurred to her it wouldn’t have been too hard to find, if Regina had been determined to break their temporary truce. She hadn’t gone far, after all. Just as Regina seemed to trust Emma wasn’t going to turn on her with the knife she was using to prepare the rabbit, Emma would have to trust Regina wasn’t going to set fire to her tent while she tended the campfire.

“Okay, so you’re saying the Moon infuses energy into candles?” Emma asked, eyebrows raised as she worked on the rabbit. “So then why isn’t like, everything outside just supercharged with magic? Why aren’t we all just walking through a thick fog of magic, dodging magic trees and walking on magic grass?”

Regina sighed. “It’s a little subtler than that. And it needs intent. Timing. Certain objects will intake the energy, at the right time, under the right conditions. And even then, you wouldn’t be able to tell it contained magic unless you knew how to wield it. That’s where the spell comes in.”

“The spell, right,” Emma repeated. “Is that the lost spell you were making yesterday, then? Before I…” Emma didn’t finish that sentence.

“If that had been the lost spell, you’d be dead,” Regina said dangerously.

“I mean, I did take out your spell pretty effectively,” Emma countered. “It wasn’t even hard.” Regina blinked, eyes hard.

“No, this is a guidance spell that will show me where to find the Keeper,” Regina continued as if Emma hadn’t spoken.

“The Keeper, right,” Emma said, as if that held any meaning to her.

“The Keeper of The Spell of Hredsigor,” Regina clarified. Emma didn’t think that made it any clearer. “She protects the spell from misguided witches, and protects inexperienced witches from the spell.”

“Is that why you’re not afraid of telling me the secrets of your ways?” Emma asked slowly, circling back to Regina’s explanation. “Because you don’t think I could commandeer your spells even if I tried?”

“Oh, I would quite like to see you try,” Regina smirked. She held Emma’s gaze for a moment, then looked down at Emma as she moved to place the rabbit on the campfire embers to cook. Regina’s nose crinkled in disgust.

“What?” Emma asked, pulling back with the rabbit in tow.

“At least season it,” Regina said, appalled. She took out a vial from her satchel and poured some of the contents onto the meat. Emma’s eyes narrowed. “Spices, Emma. They’re spices. Do you think this is how I would kill you? By poisoning both our meals?” Regina’s eyebrow raised upward.

“I don’t know, maybe you don’t want to wait for the moon to do its thing,” Emma shrugged, still eyeing the poison-until-proven-otherwise. “And maybe it’s a poison that witches are immune to? Or maybe you have an antidote for yourself.”

“Well, I’m flattered,” Regina said, reaching over Emma to grab the meat and place it on the embers herself. “You hold me in high regard, to think I am so strategic.”

Regina sat back, her right leg brushing Emma’s.

“Well, it wouldn’t do to underestimate my foe,” Emma said, quieter than she meant to. Her eyes traced the lines of Regina’s lips as they curled into a smile. Emma met Regina’s eyes once more.

“No, that would be very foolish, indeed,” Regina agreed, matching Emma’s low tone. 

Emma turned back to face the embers, monitoring them intently. They watched their dinner cook in silence.

***

It had been days. Days of searching the battle grounds with no  _ Maegenwudu _ in sight. Emma had followed her strategy, searching the Fort thoroughly before moving onto the grounds meter by meter. An exercise in discipline, yet she was not rewarded with a powerful spear, nor powerful wards.

And now, well, Emma was out of ideas. She needed to think. She sat down on a log near her tent and hung her head heavy in her hands. The birds chirped in the treetops above her. A squirrel dashed through some bushes to her left. The stream babbled to her right. Something else was moving nearby.

Emma hummed to herself, tried to drown it out. She just needed to think, to come up with her next move. No thoughts came, and Emma let out a sigh. She got up from the log and shook her head. She grabbed her flask, untwisted the cap, dumped the water onto the forest floor.

Emma walked down to the river, empty flask in tow.

Movement caught her eye.

The air felt charged. Fallen leaves seemed to lift from the ground and linger. Emma’s eyes were playing tricks on her. Then she saw the circle. It wasn’t her eyes that were playing tricks. Brown eyes met hers from across the circle of candles and pressed flowers. Emma thought this must be magic.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Regina looked away and started to hum quietly. Emma shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the crackle in the air, the rustling of branches and debris. But she heard it as if Regina’s lips were whispering the tune directly in her ear. Emma shuddered.

Then, it quieted. The forest returned to how it was before. Emma thought the moment must be over, the fruit of the magic imperceptible to the untrained eye. But then a light glowed, bright yellow, searing a line in the ground from the circle, headed north. It ripped apart the earth to reveal fire, only to stitch itself back up as if nothing happened.

Emma could only stare at where the earth had unraveled before them. Regina was not so stunned; she started picking up her items and placed them in her bag.

“Woah,” Emma muttered. Regina raised her eyebrows at her, as if she hadn’t showcased a power Emma had not known to be of this world, or at least had never seen in practice. 

“So, this is magic,” Emma said, after she’d caught her breath. Or her bearings. Perhaps both had been momentarily displaced.

“This,” Regina gestured where the line had etched, “is magic.”

Emma took it all in, the now-cleared ground, the undisturbed trees, the packed bag, the closed fist.

“You’re leaving,” Emma said.

“The first quarter shone last night. I’ve been shown the way,” Regina answered, though it had not been a question. Emma was likely optimistic in ascribing a reluctance to her tone.

“To the Keeper,” Emma said. Regina nodded. “Who keeps the lost spell you’re searching for.”

“Yes,” Regina nodded once more.

“What other secrets does she keep?” Emma asked. Regina’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?” Regina asked.

Would it be such a stretch, Emma thought, for a witch that protected an ancient spell brought and lost in the Battle of Rotcshire to involve herself in the protection of another item?

“Is she far?” Emma continued, not answering Regina’s question.

“Hard to tell,” Regina said, stepping closer with lips pursed in thought. As if there was a puzzle before her that she intended to solve.

A weapon lost, rumoured to be hidden by Balocese wards. Surely someone had to have enacted them?

“If there was a magical ward, meant to keep something hidden for a near century, would that ward need to be maintained? Looked after?” Emma asked. Regina tilted her head upward, lips parting slightly.

“Ah,” Regina breathed. Louder, she answered. “In theory.”

Well, she certainly didn’t have any other promising leads here.

“Do you even hunt?” Emma challenged. “How are you meant to feed yourself?”

“I did just fine before you arrived, Emma,” Regina said. Emma switched gears.

“Well, I’m sure you understand, I can’t let you stray too far from sight. Who knows where you’d get to in three weeks?” Emma smirked.

“Less, now,” Regina corrected, pulling her sack up and sliding her arm through the strap. Emma rolled her eyes. Regina caught her with a look. “You’ll find in these matters, it pays off to be specific.”

Emma huffed. Regina turned and started walking away.

“Well?” Regina paused, calling over her shoulder back at Emma. Emma grinned. “Are you coming or not, after all that posturing?”

“I’ll grab my stuff,” Emma said. Regina’s eyebrow raised. Emma shook her head at the ground and let out a quiet chuckle. “Go on, I’ll catch up.”

Emma’s chest felt light, her feet felt weightless, as she took one step after another in the direction of what might have been a very bad idea.

***

**_The Waxing Gibbous_ **

The walk was… quiet.

Emma caught up to Regina not long after she’d left, but had chosen to walk alongside Louis and keep a few paces behind Regina. She stepped in Regina’s footsteps—not because she thought Regina might lead her down a path with laid traps. Emma’s focus was entirely on the woman in front of her, on the way she held her shoulders back and head high as she walked.

But, there could also be traps. Couldn’t be too careful.

Regina’s hair had been pinned back. She wore a dark travelling cloak that hid the curves beneath. Her steps were sure, easily side-stepping obstacles as she guided the way. Emma couldn’t see any trace of the magic from earlier, but assumed it had left a trail for Regina to follow. Emma wondered how she could sense the way, wondered how she had learned the spell to be trustworthy. After all, it was easier to wonder about Regina than focus on the prospect of not being able to find the  _ Maegenwudu _ . Or to contemplate their impending face-off.

Emma took a few quick steps, moving past Louis to take a place walking alongside Regina.

“So, this Keeper of yours,” Emma broke the silence. Regina didn’t acknowledge her presence, didn’t glance in Emma’s direction or alter her pace. “She has your spell?”

Silence.

“Not exactly,” Regina answered, after a moment. Emma waited for her to continue. “How well do you know your history?”

“Fine,” Emma said warily, remembering how their first conversation went.

“The Battle of Rotchsire, the reason we’re both here, that’s where this all started,” Regina said, as if reciting from a history book.

“Yes, I’m familiar,” Emma said, wanting to escape the first impression she had made. “Our kingdoms went into battle together, to fight the invading Dragon Army. But your kingdom had a change of heart, they sided with the Dragon Army when we rode into battle. We didn’t stand a chance. That’s when we lost our finest warrior, and with her the  _ Maegenwudu _ .”

“Is that what they told you?” Regina stopped in her tracks, turned to face Emma. Emma stopped in answer. “Well, I suppose we’re both learning something today.”

Regina started walking again, and Emma followed.

“The Dragon Army didn’t come to fight,” Regina started. Emma furrowed her brow.

“Of course they did,” Emma interrupted. “Dragons and humans are naturally enemies. Predator and prey. It’s like, destiny. A dragon couldn’t sooner turn its back on a battle with a human than you or I could turn our backs on this prophecy.”

“I mean, they came to this land fleeing from a greater enemy,” Regina continued, unphased. “They weren’t expected to run into soldiers itching for a fight. That’s why they brought their ancient spells but didn’t use them. They were meant for the Dark One; it would have been overkill to use them in the Battle of Rotchsire.”

“Wait, what does the Dark One have to do with the battle? The Battle of Rotchsire was before their time,” Emma asked, brow furrowed.

“Time is a fickle thing,” Regina said lowly. She cleared her throat before continuing, “The Dark One has plagued our realm nearly as long as it has been a realm. Surely you’ve heard the stories, even in Beadur?”

“I thought they were just that, stories,” Emma said quietly.

“Some stories are born of truth. The Dark One was an enemy of the Dragon Army. They fled north, with their ancient magic in tow, including the Spell of Hredsigor,” Regina said.

“So, why’d they leave that spell behind?” Emma asked. Regina shrugged.

“I don’t presume to know the minds of dragons,” Regina said slowly. Emma thought it smelled like bullshit, but she had more questions.

“What does this have to do with your Keeper?” Emma asked. The path before them started winding up a hill and Emma grimaced. She rearranged her pack and watched as Louis bounded past them to the top. Show off.

“When the Dragon Army left, they entrusted the protection of the Spell of Hredsigor to our brightest witch of the time. Her bloodline has been charged with protecting it, until it is needed,” Regina said breathily as the incline grew.

“Until the Dragon Army comes back for it, you mean?” Emma found her own breath becoming laboured. Regina shot her a glare. Impressive, considering the exertion.

“Until it is needed,” Regina repeated.

The climb became too steep to keep wasting oxygen on words. They walked in silence, apart from heavy breathing and cracked twigs beneath their feet. When they joined Louis at the top, they took a second to catch their breath. Emma dug out her water flask and took a swig before passing it to Regina. Regina hesitated, then seemed to think better of it and accepted the offering.

“Your history has holes,” Emma commented. Regina’s eyes narrowed as she drank. “Do you even know why your kingdom betrayed mine?”

“It’s more complete than yours,” Regina countered.

“I’ll take that to mean you do not,” Emma said.

“I know that your kingdom was eager to fight, didn’t wait to consider the situation before grabbing arms and running in head first. Short-sighted, stubborn, and stolid,” Regina said. “Shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose. Your kingdom has always valued brawns over brains.”

“That’s not true,” Emma said, feeling heat creep up the back of her neck. She frowned. She took a breath and let it out. “Well, it sounds to me you don’t know either. I guess it’s a mystery.”

Regina rolled her eyes.

“We should make camp over there.” Regina gestured to a small clearing. Emma nodded and they made their way over.

“Oh, what did you mean earlier, when you said we were both learning something new?” Emma asked. “What did you learn?”

“I learned that apparently, history is not always told by the victor,” Regina smirked.

***

The journey spanned several days, which quickly was becoming a theme, Emma noted. She’d been hoping for a bit more action by this point, and a bit less walking. But action would mean taking on Regina without the  _ Maegenwudu _ , and walking meant more time getting to know the witch. It was like any reconnaissance mission, angling to learn about the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses. Though, so far Emma hadn’t sought to pry secrets of Regina’s weaknesses from her. No, they had spent their travels exchanging stories from their histories and customs of their kingdoms. Emma had not considered travelling to the Kingdom of Baloc, but from Regina’s descriptions, Emma thought – in another life, of course, well, it might have been nice.

Their chats convened around campfires, when the skies had gone deep red and the moon shone high above them. Tonight, Emma was cooking a rabbit she’d managed to catch earlier. She hadn’t had time to set any traps, so she’d had to get out her bow and arrow. Not her weapon of choice, but as had been her training, she was proficient.

“You’re quite adept at hunting,” Regina noted from where she sat on the log beside her. Emma’s cheeks warmed. “Had you always known you’d be here, on an indefinite journey in the woods?”

“Yes,” Emma nodded. She smirked. “Though I didn’t know I’d be hunting for two.” Idly, Emma wondered when “not killing” had turned into “helping” each other.

“You were confident as a child.” Regina raised an eyebrow.

“Hardly,” Emma scoffed. She avoided eye contact, focusing on the fire. “The King and Queen, my parents, ensured my training would prepare me to become the warrior for our kingdom.”

“You’re the Beadurian Princess?” Regina asked, surprised.

“That’s me,” Emma gave a half-smile.

“Aren’t princesses supposed to attend balls and hold Court, rather than hunt wildlife and fight battles?” Regina asked.

“Maybe in your kingdom.” Emma shrugged. “But our kingdom looks to the Royal family to lead, whether that’s in political strategy or into battle. I was surprised they even held the Trials at all, it really was more of a formality.”

Emma chuckled without humour.

“How about you?” Emma asked, nudging Regina’s arm lightly with her elbow. “Did you grow up in the shadow of the prophecy?”

“I didn’t want anything to do with it,” Regina muttered. Emma looked over at her then. Regina’s eyes were dark, her lips turned downward. “I didn’t even attend my kingdom’s trials.”

“Then, how?” Emma started, unable to wrap her mind around the concept enough to form a complete question.

“In my kingdom, we all grow up learning magic in our schoolhouses,” Regina said. This time it was Regina staring into the flames. “Our teachers always kept note of promising young witches and warlocks. The King and Queen had a shortlist of potential warriors skilled enough to rise to fulfil the prophecy. I was on it. But, when the time came to compete, well, I didn’t.”

Emma blinked.

“You just, didn’t compete?” Emma asked dumbly. Regina shot a glare her way.

“You have to understand, none of us were forced to enter the competition, though nearly all chose to,” Regina said. “And I had no love for my kingdom. I grew up—,” Regina stopped, drew a shaky breath. She closed her eyes against it, then continued. “My heart held no sense of duty, or whatever has motivated you here.”

“It wasn’t a sense of duty,” Emma muttered. Regina looked over, curiosity rimming her eyes. “It’s not about the longevity of the kingdom. I’m not here because I’m the Princess. I mean, that’s the kingdom’s strategy, sure. But for me, it’s about the people I care most for in this world, getting to keep living in it.” Emma shrugged. “Of course, I also thought I’d win,” she joked.

Regina placed her hand atop Emma’s where it lay on her thigh above her knee. Emma looked down, then into brown eyes.

“That’s beautiful, truly,” Regina said softly. “I didn’t have that.”

Regina pulled back, returned to sitting up straight.

“Then why are you here?” Emma asked, just as softly.

Regina let out a laugh without humour.

“The winner of the trials was celebrating at a nearby tavern.” Regina grimaced. “A warlock, probably around our age. He was over the moon, and looking to show off to his friends. He said some unsavoury things to me that night. And, well, I made him eat his words.”

Emma’s eyebrows raised in question.

“Nothing violent, or permanent.” Regina waved off Emma’s concern. “But, he’d been bested in a battle. And by our laws, that was binding. So, I was bound. The new Balocese warrior. I had hoped to escape fate, but I see now it’s inevitable. Our choices are not our own.”

Emma was quiet at that. There was a lot there. She let it hang in the air, waited for it to settle.

“How much further, do you think? Until we reach your Keeper?” Emma asked, after a few minutes.

“We should be there tomorrow,” Regina answered. Emma stared into the flames. Tomorrow, she’d get answers. Tomorrow, she’d find out if she was closer to finding the  _ Maegenwudu _ or if she’d wasted the past three days. And if those days wasted would cost her everything.

“Maybe the Keeper will have something other than rabbit for us to eat,” Regina muttered, mostly to herself. Emma took a bite of the admittedly overcooked rabbit. “Gods, I hope so.”

***

**_The Full Moon_ **

Emma hadn’t known what she’d been expecting from the lair of a powerful witch living isolated from her people. But a small cottage covered in ivy and smoke billowing from its chimney was not it. It looked serene, nestled far away from the turmoils of wars and ruins. Emma’s eyes found it from the moment it was visible on the horizon. As they neared, she felt drawn to it, an internal signal that they had reached their destination.

It felt like warmth emanating from a bath the moment before she dipped her foot in. It felt like washing down a bite of cake with a sip of milky tea. It felt like the doubts of taking a wrong turn laying to rest.

So, Emma’s pace didn’t slow and she didn’t hesitate as they approached the Keeper’s cottage. They reached the door, and exchanged a look. Regina nodded at Emma and turned to knock. The moment before her small fist met wood, the door opened inward.

A short woman greeted them, with deep wrinkles at the edges of her eyes, a wild crown of white hair, and high cheekbones that gave way to full cheeks.

“Um, hello,” Regina said. She seemed nervous for the first time since Emma had met her. “We’re here to talk to you about the prophecy.”

The old woman’s eyes assessed Regina, then moved to take in Emma. It was thoroughly unnerving. Emma wondered what she saw.

“Yes, I see that you are,” she said. Her face spread into a grin, her cheeks widening her face.

“We were wondering if you might help us?” Regina asked, tentatively.

“Yes, yes of course. Come in, we’ve been expecting you,” the woman said. She opened the door wider and stepped aside, waving her hand toward a charming sitting room. Emma raised her eyebrows at Regina, whose lips downturned slightly before she led the way inside. Emma nodded at the woman as she followed.

The old woman gestured to a patchwork couch that had been stuffed past capacity. It looked a hell of a lot more comfortable than the logs Emma had been sitting on thus far. Emma didn’t need a second invitation, and sat down at one end.

“The kettle’s just boiled, I’ll be right out with tea,” the woman said as she scurried into the kitchen in a flurry of flowing skirt and billowing cardigan. Regina eyed the cushion beside Emma. There wasn’t much room on the couch, small as it was. After another moment’s hesitation, Regina sat down. There was just enough space for two. The cushions were well worn and Emma could feel herself sliding toward the centre. She discreetly crossed her leg closest to Regina over the other, shifting her weight toward the arm of the couch and leaning her elbow against it as if it would anchor her in place.

“I’m sure you young ladies have your questions,” the woman called from the kitchen. “I certainly did at your age.”

Emma shot Regina a look, but Regina’s answering one held no insight.

The woman returned, holding a tray with three teacups. She shuffled over, placed it on the coffee table, and handed Regina a cup of black tea, and Emma one with milk.

“Thank you, um, Madam Keeper,” Emma said, unsure how to address the woman. The woman let out a great belly laugh and settled into the armchair across from them with her tea, taken black as Regina’s.

“Oh, dear, please call me Estelle,” the woman said. Emma nodded. Estelle took a sip of her tea. “Alright, shall we get started?”

“Estelle, we’re searching for the Spell of Hredsigor,” Regina started.

“Well, you are,” Emma muttered. Estelle’s eyes flashed in surprise. She smiled but didn’t comment.

“I’m familiar.” Estelle chuckled at her own joke. She looked at Emma. “You are looking for something else, dear?”

“Emma. And yes, I’m in search of the  _ Maegenwudu _ . A powerful weapon of my kingdom, lost in the Battle of Rotchsire.” Emma said. “I was hoping you might know something about it.”

Estelle’s grey brows furrowed.

“The  _ Maegenwudu _ was not lost,” the woman said.

“Um, it was lost to our kingdom, when our best warrior, Astrid of Beadur, was killed in battle,” Emma said, frowning. At that, Estelle laughed.

“Is that what they told you?” Estelle asked, curiosity shining in small eyes.

“Uh, yes, I mean, that’s our history,” Emma said, floundering slightly.

“You’ll have to forgive Emma. From what I can tell, the histories of her kingdom have been inaccurate, at best,” Regina chimed in.

“Hey, we’ve established that yours are incomplete, too, so I wouldn’t be so smug,” Emma said, defending her honour. Though she had a feeling her honour might have been checked at the door. She felt the Keeper held many truths unbeknownst to either of them.

“Even the keepers of history are prone to error as generations pass,” Estelle said kindly. “Sometimes, it’s in their best interest to be a bit error-prone. Always best to get it from the source, when you can. Well, I suppose we could all do with a trip down memory lane, then.

“It was… why, it must have been over 85 years ago now. The scouts that patrolled our borders reported an incoming army of dragons. The Baloc King and Queen held counsel with the Beadurian leaders. The Balocese leaders wished to meet with the dragons, to understand their intention and to negotiate a peaceful agreement. The Beadurians have always acted first and thought second,” Estelle said. She looked over at Emma affectionately. “Beadurian warriors have always been enormously brave.”

Emma felt heat in her cheeks, and looked down at her cup of tea.

“An agreement was not reached, and the kingdoms broke their alliance. For the first time in centuries, they would go forward alone. It was not an easy decision, for either kingdom,” Estelle continued. “A Balocese witch acted as representative, and met with the Commander of the Dragon Army. They were on a mission, to hide a woman, pregnant with the Dark One’s child.”

Emma hadn’t noticed she’d slid into the middle of the couch, but she noticed as Regina’s thigh tensed along the length of hers.

“The Dark One had a child?” Emma asked, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know there was more of their, uh, kind.”

“The woman was human, dear,” Estelle said gently.

“The Dark One, uh, mated with a human?” Emma asked. She felt like the air had left her chest in one fell swoop. It was a lot to wrap her mind around.

“The Dark One is human, or at least, they were,” Estelle said. “Not all monsters are born. Some are made. The woman feared what her husband was becoming, and ran away.”

“The Dark One had a  _ wife _ ?” Emma gasped. Estelle nodded indulgently. “Wow.”

“The dragons were sympathetic to the woman’s plight, and agreed to help. The Balocese agreed to help how they could. But they had entered Beadurian territory before the Balocese could reach the Beadurian castle to explain. And so, their help was extended into battle,” Estelle said.

“My kingdom thought that the Balocese betrayed them,” Emma said quietly.

“I’m sure they did, dear,” Estelle said. “The Balocese standing against the Beadurians in battle was unprecedented. You can understand that both sides thought they were doing what was best for their kingdoms. And in their own ways, they were.”

“We lost so many soldiers,” Emma said. She shook her head, mourning the loss anew.

“On all sides,” Estelle agreed. She blinked, remembering something. “Ah, right, the Beadurian’s commanding warrior and her weapon. She faced off against the Dragon Army, that much is true. But a Balocese witch was there, managed to get to her before they reached the point of no return. She explained to Astrid the truth of the Dragon Army’s intent. Astrid agreed to help.”

“Astrid survived,” Emma breathed, wonder lacing her voice. Estelle nodded. “And the  _ Maegenwudu _ ?”

“Survived with her, yes,” Estelle said. Emma leaned back against the back of the couch. A flame of hope burned fast within her chest. It was quickly snuffed out with the realization that this revelation did not lead her any closer to finding the weapon. Her shoulders slumped. Regina placed her hand on Emma’s thigh. Emma looked down at it. She blinked.

“What happened after the battle?” Regina asked, leaning forward but leaving her hand in place.

“The Beadurians were defeated, they retreated. Astrid was true to her word. She agreed to help the woman escape from the clutches of the Dark One. The Dragon Army knew there was nowhere in this realm she’d be safe. So, the Balocese opened a portal.”

Regina gasped softly, and her grip on Emma’s thigh tightened before letting go.

“I hadn’t realized that magic was actually possible,” Regina breathed. “I’ve only read about the theory in books, there were no documented actualizations. The witch must have been incredibly powerful.”

“She was, yes,” Estelle said, eyes twinkling. “When the woman was safe, the Dragon Army left. But they left the Spell of Hredsigor with the Baloc Kingdom, in case the Dark One came after them. The Keepers have been charged with keeping it safe ever since.”

Silence filled the room, thick as Regina and Emma both processed this account of history. If Emma was to believe Estelle, as she was inclined to, her kingdom had instigated their own defeat, had been the conduit of their own downfall. Her jacket felt restrictive, the couch confining.

“I uh, need some air,” Emma stammered. It was too hot, her leg was burning where it touched Regina.

“Of course,” Estelle nodded. Emma got up and showed herself to the door. She walked to the garden at the side of the cottage.

Emma mulled the conversation over in her head. Her kingdom had always praised themselves on their heroics, always first to jump in to fight for their constituents and to protect their allies. It was an ingrained part of their identity. Emma wasn’t sure how the Battle of Rotchsire fit into that anymore.

She felt as though rose-coloured glasses had been forcibly removed from where they’d rested so comfortably, she hadn’t noticed them perched on her nose. Of course, the world around her remained drenched in crimson.

Emma looked up at the clear sky. She hadn’t realized tonight was the full moon. She felt dread pool in the base of her stomach. Time was running out, for her to find the  _ Maegenwudu _ and for Regina to find her spell. The one the Dragon Army had left to protect them. The dragons, protecting humans. It went against nature. The concept was as foreign as going against destiny. Yet the Dragon Army had done it, on counts over and over again. With the pregnant woman seeking refuge, with sparing Astrid’s life in battle, fighting alongside the Balocese, in leaving protection after they left. It felt like the contents of a children’s bedtime story, an adjacent reality of ideals and loopholes. 

A rustling to her left tore Emma from her musings. A woman had approached the garden from the woods behind the house. Emma jumped, crashing into an ivy-laden trellis, breaking one of the rungs.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Emma said. She tried to put the broken wood back in place, to no avail. “You scared me.”

“No need to be frightened, love,” the woman said, smiling. Where Estelle was short, stout and warm, this woman was tall, willowy and hard. Her grey hair was pulled into a severe ponytail and her leather vest was topped with a sling of arrows. She held the bow in one hand, and a pair of foxes in the other. She put her catch on the ground and assessed the damage. “I’ll get Estelle to fix this up in the morning. Nothing a quick handiwork spell can’t cure.”

Emma furrowed her brow. This woman didn’t know magic. Emma had assumed she was a Balocese Keeper, like Estelle, but was quickly second guessing herself. Emma took in the woman again.

“You’re a Beadurian,” Emma exclaimed. The woman’s spine had curved softly with age, but the posture was clear: she was a trained warrior.

“As are you,” the woman said. “Come, let’s get inside. Estelle will be wanting to put on dinner.”

Emma jumped into action. She picked up the woman’s catch and followed her inside.

“Oh good, Emma you found Astrid,” Estelle said with a warm smile. Emma stopped in her tracks.

“Astrid, as in…” Emma trailed off. She looked at Astrid, then back to Estelle.

“One and the same,” Estelle said. Emma blinked, tried to do some mental math. That made no sense, unless…

“And you’re the witch who opened the portal,” Regina said, awe bleeding into her voice.

“I am,” Estelle nodded.

“And you’re the original Keeper,” Regina said.

“We both are, dear,” Astrid answered. “And in this case, Estelle is also the keeper of our dinner. Come now, we’ll talk more of how to reach the Fault over a nice hot meal. You’ll stay the night.”

“Did you say Fault?” Emma asked. The term was ringing a bell deep in the farthest corner of her memory.

“Yes,” Astrid nodded. She didn’t elaborate, rather led the way to the kitchen. Regina followed and Emma trailed behind.

Emma let the thought run circles around her mind until the memory caught. A lesson long since forgotten. A fracture in the earth, where one might find a downthrow.

_ Their Warrior will break the downthrow _

Emma made a note to inquire about the fate of the  _ Maegenwudu _ . With Astrid here, in the flesh, she felt confident she’d get a reputable answer. For the first time in a long time, Emma felt she was right where she was meant to be.

***

**_The Waning Gibbous_ **

Emma nearly didn’t wake up the next morning, she was so entrenched in the softness of the mattress she lay on. Weeks of sleeping on the forest floor had not been kind to her aching body. The absolute luxury of a mattress felt at once a distant memory and familiar routine. If she closed her eyes, she might imagine she was back home. Or she might fall back asleep.

If she didn’t get up on her own accord, she’d probably be awakened far less pleasantly by an angry Regina eager to get on the path to the Fault. Or worse, she’d leave without her. With a sigh, Emma clambered out of the soft, warm, welcoming bed, and got ready for the day.

When she made it to the kitchen, there were tea and eggs waiting for her. Astrid was washing dishes while Estelle and Regina were engaged in deep conversation at the table. Emma caught a few lines, about intricacies of magic she didn’t understand, and settled in with her tea, tuning them out.

“You are aware, dear, the price of the magic needed to enact the Spell of Hredsigor?” Estelle was asking when Emma tuned back in.

“Wait, like, giving away your first-born child or something?” Emma jumped in. When no one laughed at her joke, Emma realized she’d misread the moment. “That’s just what the rumours are, in my kingdom. If you make a deal with a witch, expect to give her your first born…”

Emma’s rambling didn’t seem to be helping the situation.

“I can assure you, no one has ever offered magical services in exchange for a child,” Regina said, voice dripping with disdain. Emma met her eyes briefly, before quickly looking away.

“But they do offer them in exchange for something, right?” Emma said.

“Would you ask a baker to give bread at no cost? Or a blacksmith for a sword in exchange for gratitude?” Astrid asked from the sink. “Would you not compensate a witch for her labour? For the raw materials needed for the spell?”

“Hm, honestly I hadn’t much thought of it,” Emma said, more into her breakfast than to her companions.

“All magic comes at a price,” Regina said. Emma nodded.

“Understood,” Emma said, getting up from the table with her tea in hand. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“Not at all, dear,” Estelle said. Emma walked over next to Astrid. She set her tea down, grabbed a nearby towel and set about drying the dishes Astrid washed.

“Thank you, Emma,” Astrid said.

“I had hoped to talk to you about the  _ Maegenwudu _ before we left,” Emma jumped right into it.

“Yes, Estelle mentioned you might,” Astrid said.

“I was hoping you might know where it is, seeing as you, you know, didn’t die in battle,” Emma said, grimacing at her own wording.

“Yes, how fortunate for you,” Astrid said with a smirk. Emma blushed. “Well, when I became a Keeper, I decided it was high time to put down the spear, leave my days of fighting behind me for a different life of service. Of course, just like the Spell of Hredsigor, it wouldn’t do for it to fall into the wrong hands.”

“No, that wouldn’t do at all,” Emma agreed.

“Estelle and I agreed it would be best to leave it hidden,” Astrid said. “We left it with the Spell of Hredsigor, at the Fault.”

Internally, Emma sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” Emma said, placing a hand atop Astrid’s. “For trusting me with the location, and for your hospitality. It will not soon be forgotten.”

“No, I don’t imagine it will,” Astrid said, a cryptic smile on her face.

***

They left after finishing breakfast, not wanting to waste daylight – even if it was tinted scarlet. Estelle had given directions to the Fault, which was basically to follow the land upward until it’s no longer inclined. Emma felt confident enough in her sense of direction, and more confident in Regina’s ability to get a bit of magical assistance if they got lost.

Regina was deep in thought, so Emma thought it best to leave her to it. She walked ahead with Louis, who seemed in better spirits after chasing some of the hens around the garden this morning. Astrid had been none too pleased at that.

There was a rustling up ahead. Emma turned toward it too late. Her reflexes were sharp, her dagger drawn from her hip in an instant, but the creature was too close, too fast. Emma was tackled to the ground, falling onto her back. Her dagger fell from her hand. Emma struggled to breathe as the wind left her lungs. She was pinned by a wild cat, from what she could tell at this angle. She heard a scream from behind her. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder and Emma’s shriek joined it.

This was not how Emma had imagined going out, she thought, as if outside of herself.

Suddenly, the cat was off, thrown back by some unseen force. A growl was answered by a hiss, and then the cat ran off.

Emma let her breath come back to her, and turned to look at her savior.

Louis.

Emma had not been so happy to see the wolf in her entire journey. She let out a peal of laughter that sounded shrill and unlike herself even to her own ears. Louis prodded her arm with his nose, and a spark of pain went through her shoulder. Emma winced and cradled her shoulder in her hand.

“Alright, Louis,” Emma said as she started to sit up. “You’ve earned your place. Thanks bud.”

The wolf tapped his nose lightly to her arm again. Emma patted his jowls, then moved to stand all the way up.

“Emma,” Regina breathed. She stood stock-still a few paces away. If Emma hadn’t been biting back the pain in her shoulder, she might have noticed the fear in Regina’s voice.

Emma held the up hand that had been at her shoulder to inspect it for blood. Her wound wasn’t bleeding as much as she’d feared. Probably a scratch that hadn’t found hold. Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

Regina moved closer then, holding a cloth in her hands.

“Here, best wrap that up,” Regina said, voice shaking slightly. Emma dared not move as Regina poured liquid over the wound and fastened the cloth over it.

“Was that a potion?” Emma asked quietly. Regina tied the ends of the cloth securely, then looked up to meet Emma’s gaze.

“Water,” Regina answered with a smile. “Best I could do on short notice, I’m afraid.”

Emma nodded. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, her mind rendered blank by the proximity. Regina seemed to notice, and stepped back.

“Those cats don’t usually venture this far north,” Emma said. She frowned and tried to will the adrenaline out of her system. Everything was just so much. Her heartbeat was in her ears. Her eyes kept snapping to any movement in her surroundings. Her chest rose and fell as if she were sprinting. “This late in the year, they’re getting ready for winter. Their dens are further south.”

“It’s likely the curse,” Regina said. “The red light, it’s unsettling. And animals tend to be more attuned to the magic in the air than you or I. They know something is brewing.”

“Well, we’ll have to put a stop to it,” Emma said. Regina raised an eyebrow at the collective term.

“Someone has to,” Regina said, smirking.

They kept on, the path before them looking the same as the one they left behind. But they kept onward and upward, until the red sun began to set.

“We should set up camp,” Emma noted. Regina hummed in agreement.

“Up ahead.” Regina pointed to a section of forest that looked flat enough for their tents.

They set up efficiently, as they had the days before. It wasn’t long before the tents were up, a campfire was burning, and Emma was cooking dinner for them.

“So, did Estelle tell you everything you need to know about your spell?” Emma asked.

“It wasn’t much beyond what I already knew,” Regina said. “A few new things, but mostly she just emphasized the responsibility that comes with the spell.”

“Right, the price of it,” Emma said. She decided their dinner was cooked, and served the both of them. Regina took hers, holding the plate on her lap while it cooled down.

“More than that,” Regina said. She squinted at the fire. Emma had the impression she was far away. Emma let her with her thoughts, didn’t interject. “She takes her job as Keeper so seriously, every piece of information given was deliberate. Honestly, I was almost surprised she told us how to find it. She’s protective, of the spell, of our kingdoms. Both of them. She said the Keeper knows when the spell is needed though. So, I suppose we’re on the right track.”

“She reminded me of you,” Emma said. Regina looked surprised.

“How so?” Regina asked.

“Just, being dedicated and focused on her work,” Emma said with a shrug. “And she’s wise. Perhaps a bit warmer though, you know, friendly.”

“Hey!” Regina protested, flinging a piece of charred meat her way. Emma laughed. “It’s probably just the Balocese in us, that you recognized.”

“Tell me about it,” Emma said, eager to learn more of her culture.

“Well, they instill a sense of discipline in us very early,” Regina said. “You have to have a great deal of control over your mind and body if you’re going to exert influence over magic.”

“Sounds intense,” Emma said.

“It was,” Regina admitted. She let out a small sigh. “I’m sure growing up groomed to be the Kingdom’s final hope was intense as well.”

“I mean, sure,” Emma said with a shrug. “But I still got to go outside and play with my friends, you know, be a kid. At least when I was younger.”

“I didn’t have friends,” Regina said softly.

“What? Like, not a single friend?” Emma asked.

“It was an incredibly competitive environment,” Regina said as an answer. “Everyone was trying to get on the list of witches and warlocks who could enter the trial, make their bid for our kingdom's warrior. And, well, my mother was intent on my making that list. She felt friends were a distraction, so even outside of school, well, I became quite adept at being alone.”

“Sounds isolating,” Emma said softly.

“It was,” Regina said. For a moment, both stared ahead into the fire. And then, “Tell me about them.”

“About who?” Emma asked.

“About your friends,” Regina said. “What did you guys like to do?”

“Well, I didn’t have many,” Emma admitted. “But when I was younger I’d run around the castle with Sterling and Lucy. They were brother and sister, children of one of the cooks. Sterling was always up for an adventure, and Lucy had a big smile she’d use to talk our way out of them when we got caught. As I grew older, I had to start attending some of the Palace events, balls and festivities. I’d dance with Sterling and Lucy as long as I could—I never liked the visiting nobility. Their noses were too turned up. The three of us would bide our time until we could escape.”

“Are they waiting for you back home?” Regina asked. Emma shook her head.

“They moved from the castle years ago,” Emma said. She looked down at her now empty plate. “I didn’t see them again.”

They sat in silence for a minute.

“I never learned to dance,” Regina said.

“You mean they didn’t teach you that in magic school?” Emma asked, eyes wide.

“Dancing would not help in spell-casting, I’m afraid,” Regina said with a smile. Emma got up from the log and extended a hand towards Regina.

“No time like the present,” Emma said. Regina eyed her hand warily.

“There’s no music,” Regina said.

“We don’t need music,” Emma assured her. “It’s all in the counts, anyway.”

Regina took her hand and rose from her seat.

“We’ll start with a waltz,” Emma said. “Your right hand will hold mine, like this.”

Emma brought her left arm to the side, and Regina’s right arm followed. Their hands clasped.

“Good,” Emma said. “My other hand will rest against your shoulder blade, yours will sit atop my shoulder. Like this.”

Emma arranged their arms as such. Regina was now in her arms. Emma cleared her throat and looked over Regina’s shoulder.

“The dance is just sets of three,” Emma continued the lesson. “So, the dance is only ever three steps. First you’ll step backward with your right foot as I step forward with my left.”

Emma took a step forward, bringing them closer before Regina clued in that they were starting. She stepped back.

“Why do I have to go backward?” Regina asked.

“You’re following, and I’m leading,” Emma said with a shrug. Which, was a bit of an awkward gesture with Regina’s hand resting on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be going backward later. Next we step to the side. Your left, my right.” They moved to the side, Regina ready for the movement this time.

“The next step is to bring our feet together,” Emma said. “And then we’re also shifting our weight to prepare for the next set of three.”

They brought their feet together.

“Now I’m going backward with my right foot, and you get to step forward with your left,” Emma said. They followed Emma’s instructions.

“Next, we’ll step to the side. This time your right, my left,” Emma said. They moved to the side. “And finally, we bring our feet together and shift our weight. Ready for the next.”

They did so, and then stood in their almost-embrace. Emma brought her gaze to meet Regina’s, looking slightly down at the shorter woman.

“So, that’s the waltz,” Emma said, not letting go of Regina’s hand. “Ready to put it together?”

“I think I can manage,” Regina said wryly. Emma smiled.

“Alright, on my count,” Emma said. “One, two, three. One, two, three.”

They stepped in a slow, clumsy waltz, moving forward and backward to return to their starting place. With only a couple missteps, Regina got the rhythm down.

“Think you’re up for an added challenge?” Emma asked.

“Do you need to ask?” Regina answered.

“Right, forgot who I was talking to,” Emma said. “So, this time we’ll add a turn. It’s the same steps, basically, just some are larger than others. And you sort of, turn in place.”

Emma unlinked their arms, stepped back to show Regina what it looked like. Regina stood beside her, looking down at her feet, and tried to copy the movements.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Regina said, after a few minutes of practice.

“Okay,” Emma said. She held her arms out to Regina. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

Regina snickered and stepped into position.

“One, two, three,” Emma counted. They stepped in time to her cue, moving around the campfire. They got in three good spins before Regina’s foot caught on a root on the front step.

Regina stumbled forward, let go of Emma’s hand to catch herself on Emma’s shoulder. Emma shifted her right hand to steady Regina’s back, and brought the left to brace against her waist. They wobbled, but didn’t fall. Emma could hear her heartbeat in her throat. Or maybe it was Regina’s.

“I’m sorry,” Regina said softly. She took a half step back, enough to put a sliver of space between them but didn’t move further. Emma could feel Regina’s breath on her lips, could count the eyelashes lining brown eyes.

“Don’t be,” Emma whispered. She swore Regina stopped breathing. Regina’s eyes flicked downward before returning to meet Emma’s. Emma shifted closer, brushed her nose against Regina’s. Emma’s eyelids fluttered closed.

Emma leaned ever closer, aching to find out what Regina’s full lips would feel like against her own, to find out what they would taste like.

One of Regina’s hands moved to press lightly against Emma’s sternum, halting her momentum.

“I can’t,” Regina whispered. Emma’s eyes flew open, seeing brown eyes filled with regret. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking. Maybe she was projecting her own longing onto the other woman.

Regina backed out of Emma’s arms. She walked over to her tent. She hesitated at its entrance, looked back toward Emma before seemingly thinking better of it.

They didn’t speak for 3 days.

***

**_The Third Quarter_ **

The remainder of the journey to the Fault was awkward, to say the least. They became adept at travelling in the same direction, but not together. They shared meals, but no words.

Emma replayed the evening over and over in her mind. She hadn’t thought she’d overstepped, couldn’t pinpoint the point where they’d shifted trajectory. Whatever the case, Emma supposed it was for the best. Despite the… recent events muddying the water of Emma’s purpose, she still had one. The same purpose she’d had her whole life. Find the  _ Maegenwudu _ . Defeat the Balocese warrior. Kill the Dark One.

A purpose that would be significantly easier to fulfil if she didn’t waste time thinking of what the Balocese warrior’s kisses might taste like.

She had to focus.

Emma’s attention fixated on her steps forward. She refused to let it waver. She took sure strides, until she saw the path ahead drop off.

“The Fault,” Emma muttered. She stopped in her tracks.

“It would appear so,” Regina said, passing by Emma. She kept going.

Emma followed, looking out at the view of the forest from the top of the Faultline. It was impressive, to say the least. Trees spanned acres, over rolling hills and dipping valleys.

Regina stood near the edge. Closer than Emma would have chosen. Emma stayed at a more comfortable distance.

“It’s quite the setting, to fulfil one’s destiny,” Regina said.

“Indeed,” Emma agreed. “Well, I’m off to break the downthrow.” Emma started to walk away.

“What?” Regina asked, turning around to face Emma.

“The downthrow?” Emma gestured to the cliff edge. “What, they didn’t teach you geology in your magic school?”

Regina laughed. Emma figured that meant they were okay again. Not that she’d been worried. She’d been focused.

Emma went in search of the  _ Maegenwudu _ . She didn’t find it the first day. The second day didn’t hold a discovery of the spear, either, but Emma did find a way to get to the bottom of the Fault. They moved their campsite that night.

The third day held a promising discovery. A small temple, near the rockface a couple kilometres from camp. Emma had almost missed it on her first pass. The temple was made from the same stone as the cliff, and plant life had overgrown the architecture, such that the structure was nearly camouflaged. Emma couldn’t read the writing above the arch of the entrance, but she recognized the symbol between sign and entry to be a moon.

Emma figured it was as good a place as any to stash a spear.

The next mystery was how to enter the temple. Emma tried pushing on the door, but the entrance appeared to be sealed. Emma appraised the edges, finding them to be distinct from the archway. So, in theory, it should open.

It was time to live up to her Beadurian heritage, Emma decided. She gave the door a shove with her shoulder, putting the weight of her body behind it. The door shook in place, but didn’t open. Perhaps with more conviction, then.

Emma took a running start, slammed into the doorway with all her might. And fell through, onto the floor covered in cobwebs and dust.

Emma grimaced as she stood, wiping the debris from her clothes. She blinked at her surroundings, waiting for her eyes to adjust. After a few moments, they did, and Emma was able to make out a small shrine before her.

She walked over and saw old candles that were on an altar. Script was etched into the stone wall behind it, but again, it was in a language Emma couldn’t read. There was a cupboard below the altar, and Emma opened the wicker doors carefully. They opened easily to reveal a long spear, held flush against the back panel by two hooks.

The breath left Emma’s lungs.

She took the spear from its place, held it reverently with cautious hands. Emma left the temple, to see the spear in the daylight. The handle was an artwork of engraved steel and worn leather. The blade was longer than Emma’s arm. She ran her finger along the edge, and frowned.

Emma heard a rustling behind her. She spun around and threw the spear directly at the cliff face. The rock cracked, but so did the spear.

“What the hell was that!” Regina yelled. The spear had clattered to the ground less than a meter from her feet.

“The  _ Maegenwudu _ ,” Emma said dully. Her heart sank deep into her stomach; her saliva turned thin in her mouth.

“Jumping right into killing me, then?” Regina asked, voice strained. Emma scoffed.

“Please, that was nowhere near you,” Emma said. She bent down to retrieve the spear, or rather, the pieces of it. It had not survived intact. Regina looked at the weapon’s remains in horror.

“So, what, you’re giving up?” Regina asked. “Why the hell would you destroy the weapon you believe to be a match for the Dark One?”

Emma rolled her eyes, grabbed her dagger from where it was fastened at her waist, and threw it against the rock. Admittedly, that one was closer to Regina. The dagger stuck, intact in the rockface. Emma walked over, and pulled it out. The dagger didn’t bear a scratch.

“While the  _ Maegenwudu _ may have been hidden for safekeeping, it looks like it hasn’t stood the test of time,” Emma mused, looking down at the disparity between the weapons in each hand. She sighed. “Maybe a leak in the temple? Or just, a regular spear. Perhaps there was never anything more powerful about it than the woman who wielded it.”

The only thing that convinced Emma the world hadn’t fallen out beneath her feet was the fact that she was still standing.

Regina placed her hand against Emma’s arm. Emma trembled, at the touch or the shock, she couldn’t be sure. They stood there a moment, before Regina moved past her to inspect the temple herself.

Emma stared at the shards of spear in her hand a few moments more before dropping it in disgust. She felt anger flare within her chest, felt the need to  _ do _ something. Emma went back into the temple to find Regina staring at the altar.

“This is it,” Regina breathed. Her hand reached out to trace the script on the wall. “The Spell of Hredsigor, it’s kept here. This spell will reveal it.”

Emma felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“Well,” Emma said, voice thick. She coughed to clear her throat and tried again. “Are you going to kill me now, or shall we wait until after dinner?”

Regina whirled around, eyes wide.

“Emma,” Regina said, in a tone both sad and disappointed. 

“I have no weapon, and I certainly can’t take yours,” Emma said, her voice running shrill. She gripped the dagger she was still holding onto, looked down at it. It seemed to gleam despite the low lighting. Emma sighed.

Then, in a flash, she lunged at Regina, pressing her up against the wall of the temple beside the altar. Emma held a handful of Regina’s travelling cloak, her forearm pinned against her shoulders. Her other hand brought the dagger’s tip against Regina’s throat. Regina was breathing heavily, her eyes fearful. Regina’s hand came up to clasp Emma’s wrist, preventing her from moving the blade closer.

“Would the prophecy even let me, if the weapon I used wasn’t the  _ Maegenwudu _ ,” Emma muttered. Emma twisted the dagger in her hand, angled the blade toward her own neck and pressed the handle into Regina’s hand. “Would it let you?”

“Emma,” Regina said again.

“What, is the prospect of killing me not so appealing when my blood will fall on your hands?” Emma taunted.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Regina said. Emma sighed, pulling away and letting the dagger clatter to the floor.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Emma said. She backed away until she hit the opposite wall, and slid down, burying her head in her hands. Emma felt soft hands prying her own away from her face. She blinked, tried to clear the tears from her sight.

“What if we don’t have to?” Regina whispered.

“Of course we have to,” Emma said. She let out a bark of a laugh. “What choice do we have?”

“Their Warrior will break the downthrow. A confrontation of ebony and ivory. What was lost will be found, what was dark will find light. One Kingdom shall be crowned,” Regina recited. “The prophecy never actually said we’d have to kill each other.”

“It is heavily implied,” Emma said, looking down at her feet. Regina lifted her chin.

“But it’s not said,” Regina said firmly. She moved to hold Emma’s hands in hers. “So, why don’t you help me set up the spell I’ll have to cast to retrieve the Spell of Hredsigor? And we’ll just, go from there?”

Emma blinked. Tears fell down her cheeks unbidden. She nodded, thoroughly unconfident.

“Alright,” Regina said with a kind smile. “Now, these candles need to be cleaned, and they’ll need to be charged.”

***

**_The Waning Crescent_ **

“It’s time,” Regina called from where she’d been setting up her spell. Emma finished the last touches of her snare trap, then whistled to Louis. Not that she expected him to come running. But he’d know she was on the move if he felt inclined to join. So she told herself, at least. Emma made her way to Regina at a light jog. The crescent moon was beginning to rise in the evening sky.

“What do you need me to do?” Emma asked. Regina didn’t turn to face her. She bent over and grabbed something from her sack.

“You don’t need to do anything. Just, stay sharp,” Regina said. She returned from her bag holding a candle. This one was a deep purple, with unfamiliar markings etched into the sides. Emma drew her eyes away from the candle to look at Regina, finding her staring back. The wrinkle between Regina’s brows was in full effect. Emma pursed her lips, searching Regina’s face for a hint of what was going on behind the wall.

“Hey,” Emma whispered. She took a step forward, put her hands on Regina’s upper arms, felt her shiver beneath her touch. “Talk to me.”

For a moment, it looked like she would. Regina’s lips parted, as if preparing for words to follow. As the silence stretched on, brown eyes were imploring. Emma hadn’t longed for a magical inclination before, but she couldn’t think of what she wouldn’t give to know what Regina was thinking in this moment. Emma stroked her thumbs back and forth against the fabric of Regina’s sleeves, not daring to break this moment. Regina licked her lips, looked down at the ground and took in a shuddering breath.

“Just…” Regina met Emma’s gaze once more, this time with an expression of resolve. “Stay sharp.”

Emma nodded, dropped her hands and stepped away. “Yes ma’am.”

Regina closed her eyes and the candle in her hands lit up, a controlled flame at its wick. She turned back around, muttering lowly. Her cadence was languid. As she picked up in volume, reciting words in a language long since lost to Emma’s kingdom, it bordered on alluring. Regina began walking around the circle she’d laid, and her voice took on a musical quality, until she was outright singing the incantation. It had a lovely lilt, this ancient language.

Emma watched their surroundings as attentively as she watched the spellcaster. It was captivating, enchanting. Even Louis had come to watch, standing opposite the circle from Emma, keeping a fair distance back.

When Regina completed the full circle, she touched the candle down to the crushed rosewood. The circle ignited, and the ingredients spread out along its circumference went up in flames. Regina’s singing—chanting?–grew louder as the flames drew higher.

A breeze broke out where still air had been, rustling the leaves and the branches that held them. Birds that had been perched in the trees around them flew into the distance. Fallen sticks and leaves rose with loose dirt around Regina’s feet, joined the wind in surrounding the bubble of magic.

Regina sang louder, the flames grew higher, the wind blew harder. And then.

Nothing.

The debris fell to the ground. The fire snuffed out.

Emma didn’t dare breath, didn’t dare move. She waited for Regina to do something, to say something that would signal the spell was over.

Silence.

And then,

“It—” Regina’s breath hitched. A moment passed as she swallowed. “It didn’t work.”

Emma could see that from the lack of, well, anything, after Regina had finished the incantation. Emma stepped closer, placed a hand on Regina’s shoulder as they both looked at the construction of the spell on the ground before them. Regina had once said that magic was more than the ingredients to a spell, more than the sum of its parts. But the candles, herbs and dried flowers, they were just parts now, not a whole.

“I thought it would work,” Regina whispered, her voice grated on the way out. Suddenly, Regina was falling. Had Emma not been already in close contact, she wouldn’t have felt Regina start to sway beneath her palm. She wouldn’t have had the reflexes to catch her. As it stood, Emma was able to catch Regina on her way down, and maintained them upright.

“Regina!” she shouted with a surprised grunt. Louis howled from across the circle of what was now merely ash. There was a fallen log a few metres away, Emma saw in her peripheral vision. “Okay, Regina, let’s get you sitting down, huh?”

Emma clumsily rearranged her hold on the passed-out woman in her arms, and managed to lift her into a bridal carry. From there, it was significantly easier to navigate them towards the log. She set Regina down on the forest floor, with her back braced against the log, such that she remained partially upright.

Lying prone, it was hard to believe this woman held so much power. That she was meant to be Emma’s downfall, or Emma hers. Like this, she was all gentle curves and soft snores. Just minutes before, she’d been a force of nature. Emma wondered, not for the first time, the cost of this prophecy. Regina had been shaped by fate—they both had been. They had been molded, but had they also been hardened, fired in the kiln of destiny?

Who would they have become, had Emma not spent her years preparing to face the prophecy, had Regina not spent her years running from it?

Would they still be this strong? Would they still be this closed off?

Emma watched over Regina and contemplated fantasies she hadn’t indulged in since she’d been a little girl, playing pretend in the gardens of the castle.

***

The clouds obscured the sunrise the next morning, but Emma didn’t need bright rays to rouse her from slumber. She hadn’t slept a wink overnight. She’d watched the hours pass in the rises and falls of Regina’s chest. Emma was acutely aware of every breath, of every muscle twitch, of every unconscious stirring. With every rustling of a creature passing a bush, Emma’s grip on her dagger tightened.

She felt utterly powerless to help Regina in this. There were no outward signs of harm to her, no cuts or bruises. Her breathing was even; there were no moans of pain. If Emma hadn’t witnessed her crumble in on herself, she might have thought Regina sleeping. Emma didn’t have any magical insight, but she could watch over Regina while she was in this state. She could stay sharp.

Louis didn’t sleep much either, prowling around the perimeter of their makeshift campsite. Sometimes he ventured beyond where Emma could keep an eye on him, but she knew at least Louis could handle himself. Her eyes were needed elsewhere.

Emma got up to start the fire. Regina’s condition hadn’t changed overnight, so she felt only slightly uneasy leaving her watch post. But the chill of the night had made a home in her bones, and she figured if Regina woke up this morning she’d need some warming up as well. Once the fire was going, she’d be able to watch over her from a distance.

The kindling she’d gathered was awash with a morning dew, and Emma swore quietly. It wasn’t catching. She’d need birch bark, which was more sparse in these woods than she’d like. Emma looked at the trees nearby, definitively  _ not _ birch trees, and then back at the tent where Regina rested.

A low rumble, not quite growl, drew her attention to Louis’s return. Between sharp teeth was shredded bark, white speckled black. Emma let out a whistle.

“Aye, bud,” Emma smiled. Louis dropped the bark on the ground. Emma would have run her hand through his thick fur between his ears, if she didn’t think there was a high chance that she’d lose it on the way down. Best not to press her luck. “When did you get so smart?”

Louis just snorted, and trotted over to a particularly comfortable section of grass, Emma assumed. Emma scratched at the bark with her dagger, creating some shavings and drawing out the natural oils. When she ignited a spark with her flint, this time, it caught.

Emma smiled to herself. She nudged the smaller sticks closer to the bark, letting the layer of dew turn to steam. After only a couple more pieces of bark added to the starter, the sticks were engulfed in flames. Time to prepare breakfast.

Emma busied herself in the task, the routine calming her and anchoring her thoughts to the task at hand. She was completely focused when she heard a snap of a twig behind her. She whipped around, dagger at the ready and prepared to pounce.

“Good morning to you too,” Regina said, her voice husky with sleep. She rubbed at her eyes as Emma blinked dumbly. The dagger fell from her hand and then she did pounce.

Regina grunted with the impact of Emma’s muscular frame encircling her in a firm hug. Emma took care not to hold too tight, as one of her arms wrapped around Regina’s trim waist and her other hand buried itself in the hair at the nape of her neck.

“Regina,” Emma breathed, breathed, breathed her in. Regina was alive. And awake. And her arms wrapped hesitantly around Emma. Before Emma could get comfortable in the feel of Regina’s hands on her body, she pulled back. “What the hell was that!”

Regina winced and rubbed at her temples.

“That, was our last chance at defeating the Dark One, going down the drain.” Regina answered. She went to sit on a log by the fire.

“Not that. You know damn well what I mean.” Emma followed her, only barely managing not to yell. Still, she sounded frantic. “You scared me. What the hell happened?”

“I told you, magic comes at a price, Emma,” Regina said wearily, staring into the fire and pointedly not at Emma.

“Yeah, a price, like, six pence or a half dozen eggs!” Emma countered. “You didn’t say it would knock you out, dead to the world for half a day!”

“Well, not all magic does,” Regina said, turning her head toward Emma again. Regina nodded at the space beside her on the log. Emma walked over obediently, let herself drop down hard. “The more powerful the spell, the more it takes from its caster. I told you, magic is more than ingredients. At its core, magic is an essence of yourself. It takes energy, draws it out and creates miracles from it. But it does not return it.”

“Regina, you’ve…” Emma tried to do a quick count in her head, but shook it instead when the numbers got jumbled. “Regina, how many spells have you cast on this journey? How much magic were you using before I found you in the woods?”

“It’s not such a linear function,” Regina said slowly. “I may have over-exerted myself…”

“You may have over-exerted yourself?” Emma felt the note of hysteria raise her voice nearly an octave. “Regina, you looked pale as death. I didn’t know if you were, if you—” Emma shuddered, took a breath and tried again. “I didn’t know if you were going to wake up.”

“So, you got scared, so what?” Regina’s temper flared, meeting Emma where she was.

“So what? What do you mean, so what?” Emma felt like an idiot, having shown too much of her hand in her reaction to Regina’s near-death experience.

“I mean, in the grand scheme we’re working towards. In the face of defeating the Dark One, what does it matter? That you got scared? I hate to break it to you Emma, but you’re going to be a lot more scared in the face of the Dark One,” Regina said, completely tense.

“We’ll be facing the Dark One together. We’ll find your spell, and we’ll take them on.” Emma said, losing steam. “I’m not scared when we’re working together.”

Regina closed her eyes.

“Emma, you need to be prepared to fight the Dark One alone,” Regina said, voice tense. “In case the Spell of Hredsigor doesn’t do the job. In case it fails, like your  _ Maegenwudu _ .”

“Why would I need to face them alone?” Emma asked, eyes wide. Dread started to pool at the edges of her heart. Regina shook her head. “Why would I be alone after you’ve cast the spell, Regina?”

“Emma.” Regina’s voice turned soft. She took Emma’s hand in both of hers and smoothed her thumb over Emma’s knuckles. Then she looked into Emma’s eyes, and Emma saw nothing but resignation. “Emma, it was always going to end this way. You’ve seen it, my magic is finite. My people have always known the magic it would take to go up against the Dark One, to enact the Spell of Hredsigor, no witch could survive that. Not even with a brilliant, brave soldier at her side.” Regina’s hands squeezed and Emma saw the world swim before her. A droplet landed on her wrist. Emma ripped her hands free, wiped roughly at her eyes.

“Emma, why do you think I didn’t partake in my kingdom’s selection ceremony?” Regina continued. “I had no love for my kingdom, I didn’t feel I owed them anything. But, it’s not about the kingdom. It’s not about the people sitting on thrones or in villages I’ll never visit, is it Emma? It’s about the people I care most about in this world,” Regina ran her fingers through Emma’s hair, tucking behind her ear and resting it on her wet cheek. Emma blinked and more tears ran loose. “Getting to keep living in it.”

“You don’t owe them this,” Emma croaked. She took Regina’s hand from her cheek, clasped both hands around it and brought it to her lips. “You don’t owe them this.”

“Emma, I’m afraid there isn’t a choice.” Regina was crying now too. “There was never a choice. It was always going to be like this.”

And, no, Emma could not accept that. Couldn’t accept that Regina had been raised to die. Didn’t that mean she had been too? Hadn’t her own parents known  _ One Kingdom will rise  _ to mean their daughter might fall? She used to think she didn’t need the choice, because she would have chosen this anyway. But, here, now, Emma wasn’t sure she would.

Emma pulled back, retreated into herself and away from the campsite. She needed more air. She needed to think. She needed to focus.

She found herself in front of the temple. The temple that had housed the worn down  _ Maegenwudu _ . The temple that was supposed to reveal the Spell of Hredsigor. The building itself seemed so unintimidating. Yet, it held the fates of two warriors within it.

Emma knelt at the altar, impossibilities of a world where neither of them survived the prophecy swirling around her mind. She felt two hands rest gently on her shoulders. She should have known Regina would come after her. The two hands gripped tighter suddenly, and Regina gasped. Emma looked up, noticed for the first time that the script on the wall above the altar had disappeared.

Or rather, the wall itself had gone, revealing an alcove containing a leatherbound book and several sealed glass containers, the contents of which Emma didn’t recognize.

“The Spell of Hredsigor,” Regina breathed. Her hands left Emma’s shoulders and Regina approached the altar. She took the book carefully in her hands, but did not open it. She closed her eyes, a frown settling on her face.

“What is it, Regina?” Emma asked. She gathered herself up from kneeling to stand once more.

“It’s not time,” Regina whispered.

“What do you mean it’s not time?” Emma asked, frowning.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Regina said, shaking her head. “I held the book and it’s like it told me, that now is not the time. The Spell of Hredsigor is not needed.”

“Of course it’s needed,” Emma protested.

“You remember why we have Keepers of the spell,” Regina said. Emma blinked. “Not only to protect the spell from those who would misuse it, but also to protect the witches from the spell. If it’s not time, I don’t think it wise to try to force it. I might have accepted my role in this war, but it might no longer be just my life on the line. No, it’s too risky.”

Regina put the book back. Emma just stared.

“Then, what now?” Emma asked after a moment.

“I don’t know,” Regina answered.

“We could run away,” Emma whispered, the words themselves sacrilegious.

Regina’s brown eyes widened.

“Run away?” she breathed, as if she didn’t dare believe the words held weight.

“Leave them their prophecy, and their battles. Let them fight for themselves.” Emma grew emboldened with every word. “They sacrificed their children, groomed us to possibly die in a fight that wasn’t ours to win. Let them think we have. We have no greater weapon than they do. We could just… run away.”

“Where would we go?” Regina whispered. And that was not a no.

“Anywhere. Everywhere,” Emma said, the sudden possibility of choice, and freedom, and  _ more than this prophecy  _ was intoxicating. 

“I hadn’t dreamed of anywhere,” Regina admitted. “Nor everywhere.” She glanced down at their entwined hands, bit her full lower lip.

“I think I might like anywhere, were I with you.”

***

**_The New Moon_ **

They left. Left the grounds of worship and prophecy behind.

Emma didn’t know where they were going. Anywhere, was where they’d landed on. Anywhere had to be better than where they’d been, shackled by the chains of fate. They walked in weighted silence.

They reached the top of a hill with a cliff-side view of a village. It had been weeks since Emma had seen one, longer since she’d seen a village with the population intact. It was infused with life. It breathed with the movements of villagers, carts and smoke from chimneys.

“Should we go down?” Emma asked. She looked over at Regina, who kept staring at the village. “They probably have a tavern that serves more than roasted rabbit,” Emma finished with a small smile.

“I’ve been here before,” Regina whispered, so quiet it was nearly carried away with the wind. But Emma heard it. She looked around, for any landmarks she might have missed.

“You’ve been here before?” Emma echoed, when Regina didn’t elaborate. Emma didn’t see anything familiar to her, nothing but the woman beside her. “Wait, have you seen Louis? Louis, bud!”

Emma had assumed the wolf had been ahead of them, but she hadn’t seen him for miles. It wasn’t unusual, per se, but usually if they stopped it wouldn’t be long before he came trotting back. Emma furrowed her brow.

“I don’t think we should go down there.” Regina said, pulling Emma from her thoughts.

“Down there, like, into the village?” Emma asked, trying to get back onto the same page. She looked back at the signs of life, signs of warmth and promises of food, and couldn’t think of any train of logic wherein not going into the village was in their best interest. “Why?”

“This village is part of the Baloc Kingdom,” Regina answered.

“Okay, so we’ll keep a low profile,” Emma shrugged. “Who’s going to look twice at two travellers stopping in for a hot meal?” She imagined a warm beef stew, with buttery mashed potatoes, and her mouth watered.

Regina laughed without humour.

“I’m afraid I’m rather notorious in these parts, Emma,” Regina said, turning to Emma. When they made eye contact, Regina’s were wistful. Emma began to grasp just what Regina was leaving behind. What they both were. “Once word spreads that we’ve abandoned our charge, the arms that welcome us will not be in embrace.”

Right. Emma frowned.

They kept going.

They ended up returning to the Keeper’s cottage. Regina was certain that returning the Spell of Hredsigor to its protected home was the right decision. Emma had questions about that. So, they felt the Keepers might be able to shed some light on the situation.

By the time they arrived, Emma had to accept that Louis had left them. Regina suggested he’d gone back to his pack. Emma thought the pack in question might bear resemblance to Queen Snow and King David back home.

Her parents had often employed loyal animals as scouts, to go where soldiers could not and report back to the throne. Emma felt silly for not suspecting it sooner. News of their abandonment might spread sooner than either of them had bargained for.

There was no answer at the door when they knocked, which set both Emma and Regina on edge. The door wasn’t locked, so they entered. Slowly, and with Emma’s dagger drawn. But the place was exactly as they’d left it, with no intruders in sight.

“Where do you think they went?” Emma asked, looking around the sitting room at the books on the shelves.

“Emma, come take a look at this,” Regina called from the kitchen. Emma walked over to where Regina was hovered over the kitchen table. There was a note on it. Regina had lit a candle and placed it beside the note.

_ My dears, we know you’ll do us proud _

__

There was no signature, no further information included. Just one cryptic line.

“What do you think it means?” Emma asked. She locked eyes with Regina.

“A Keeper will know when the time is right for the Spell of Hredsigor,” Regina said slowly, face pale.

“A Keeper? Do you mean…” Emma trailed off, letting the weight of the words sink in.

“Not one Keeper, but two. One of Baloc, one of Beadur,” Regina whispered. Emma blinked.

Emma dreamed of destiny that night. Of knights and witches, of spears and spells. Of light and dark, of war and peace.

The next morning, the skies were blue. Emma’s eyes struggled to adjust, having spent a month cloaked in red.

“So, the Dark One succeeded,” Emma said over tea with Regina.

“Well, their curse took root,” Regina said.

“And the world didn’t end,” Emma said.

“Not that I can tell,” Regina said, frowning. 

“So, what does that mean?” Emma asked. Regina closed her eyes, scrunched her nose and furrowed her brow. Emma let the silence grow for a minute, then two. It felt incredibly long, but she didn’t dare risk breaking Regina’s concentration.

“The fabric of the realm has shifted,” Regina concluded. Emma didn’t know how Regina could tell; she certainly didn’t feel anything different with the fabric of the realm. Just a southeastern breeze nipping in through the open window. “A portal has been opened.”

“Do you think…” Emma almost didn’t dare finish her sentence. She didn’t have to, though, Regina jumping in.

“Do I think the Dark One is still searching for his wife, after all these years?” Regina said. She took a sip of her tea. “I can’t speak to the motives of Dark Ones. But I think, had I lost the woman I loved and there was a chance to get her back, I might tear apart the fabric of space and time to reach her.”

Emma hummed. Then she laughed. Regina eyed her curiously.

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought when the Dark One won, that we’d be a little more… dead,” Emma said with a shrug.

“Well, I don’t know that they’ve won, per se,” Regina said. “At least not in the way we thought.”

“Do you think it’s possible they’re still a threat?” Emma asked.

“I think we are the Keepers of an ancient spell that can protect this realm from the greatest of evil. And I think that we’ll know when it’s needed,” Regina answered.

***

****

**_Epilogue, Several Moons Later_ **

Emma frowned at the open cupboard in front of her. The open, empty cupboard. Her stomach growled and Emma echoed the sentiment.

“What?” Regina called from where she was setting up a pentagram on their living room floor. The couch had been pushed aside and the rug rolled up, replaced by more candles than any one woman should own, in Emma’s opinion. Well, perhaps not when that woman was a witch. The wax could be expected to drip onto the floorboards – a mess Emma sure as hell wouldn’t be cleaning up.. again. Well, maybe the wax would fill in some cracks and stop the creaking that gave Emma away any time she attempted to sneak a midnight snack. Or maybe it could stop the rug from sliding in place…

“We have to go to town,” Emma shouted back, returning to the issue at hand.

“We were just in town.” Regina said, and Emma could hear the furrow in her brow as her voice drew closer. “Just, what, the other week?”

“It’s been over a fortnight,” Emma said, shutting her disappointment behind cupboard doors and turning to face Regina.

“No, it can’t be,” Regina muttered, already lost in a whir of cogs and calculations in her mind’s eye. “We haven’t seen the full moon yet; the next batch of candles haven’t been infused with their spells. No, it can’t have been over a fortnight.”

“Well, we’re out of food, so it’s past due to make the trip into town. Maybe your witchy cycle is late?” Emma suggested. Regina’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s not “my cycle’, it’s the moon’s and it is never late. You must not have picked up enough supplies last time.” Regina brushed off Emma’s implication.

“Yeah, that’s likely.” Emma snorted at the idea. “Like you aren’t double checking the bags I bring home. Whatever, I could do with a walk into town anyway. Care to join me?”

“You know it’s too risky to be spotted together,” Regina cautioned. Emma took Regina’s smaller hands in her own. She nodded. One cloaked stranger could hide in a crowd. Two drew more attention.

“What about that disguising spell you did when we first moved in?” Emma pressed, hopeful. Recently Regina had been busy with a few spells for some villagers who’d sought her services for their ailments, on top of preparing the batch of candles to sell at the market. And Emma hadn’t been much more available, out hunting at daybreak most days to try to get some game to put in the cold cellar for winter before the animals went into hibernation.

“I think I probably have some dried vervain left somewhere,” Regina muttered. And then she was off, searching through drawers in a cabinet that was completely off limits to Emma. One too many mishaps while searching for an ingredient Emma wouldn’t recognize if it presented itself to her with a name tag, and well, her privileges had been revoked. “Here it is! Okay, I’ll come with you.”

Emma walked over and placed her hands on Regina’s hips. Regina let out a small sigh as Emma dropped her chin to rest on her shoulder while Regina started mixing ingredients. Emma started swaying her hips, leading a dance to no music.

“You’re making this more difficult,” Regina said, but her hips moved in time with Emma’s. Emma smirked and nuzzled her nose into the soft skin below Regina’s ear.

“Don’t mind me,” Emma whispered. She placed a kiss where her nose had brushed. Regina let out a slow exhale, tilted her head back. Slowly, Regina turned her head towards Emma and leaned in to place a kiss against Emma’s lips. Emma sighed into the kiss. She wasn’t sure she’d ever grow accustomed to trading kisses with Baloc’s fiercest warrior. Not sure she’d want to.

Regina pulled back, and resumed grinding her flowers with her mortar and pestle. Emma stayed where she was, letting her hands roam the expanse of Regina’s soft stomach.

“You really are trying to put this trip off, huh?” Regina chuckled.

“Fine, fine.” Emma reluctantly removed her hands and placed one last kiss to Regina’s shoulder. “I’ll go get our cloaks.”

“And the basket, the big one,” Regina called after her as Emma went to the closet.

“And the basket,” Emma agreed.

One basket, two cloaks and one disguising potion later, they were on their way into town. It was a bit of a hike, but Emma never minded it. The trail was riddled with wildflowers and trees reaching up to the sky; it was the very embodiment of why they chose this spot to settle. It was full of life, inescapable as they crossed over a small creek and past some small caves. The birds sang, the frogs croaked and the insects provided complex, buzzing harmonies. Emma felt more at home in these woods than she ever felt in the castle.

They heard the village before they saw it. Which sparked a frown across Emma’s face. They shouldn’t have been able to hear the noises of the market this far out. Something was different. Emma didn’t want to jump to the assumption that something was  _ wrong,  _ but if they arrived at that conclusion she wouldn’t be surprised. She didn’t say anything to Regina, but the furrow in her brow showed she’d taken note of the unexpected decibel.

Their steps were more cautious, but they didn’t slow down. The frequency of shoulder checks for unwanted trackers and scans ahead for hidden ambushes were raised, but Emma knew not to draw more attention to herself by taking on defensive body language. Regina, however, let sparks emit from her fingers at each snap of a twig or bird taking flight.

When they can see the village in sight, however, their heightened caution appeared to have been unwarranted.

“It’s a festival,” Emma said, dumbfounded. She’d been coming to this village for well over a year and had never seen a festival of any kind. Certainly not one with purple banners adorning market stalls and musicians in the town square. She’d have remembered that. Might have made the trip more often and they wouldn’t have been in their current position of an urgent supply run.

“I don’t like it,” Regina muttered. It appeared only one of them had laid their suspicions to rest. She was squinting at the celebrations, as if she could decode their purpose.

“Of course you don’t,.” Emma replied, with equal parts fondness and exasperation. The stalls were still selling produce, breads and cheeses, so it didn’t look like they’d have to come back another day. Emma made her way towards the closest stall.

“Hello there,” Emma greeted the merchant. The merchant smiled, full of warm geniality and crooked teeth. They were dressed in the festival colours, and had even placed a few ornaments to decorate the stall.

“What’ll it be for ya?” the merchant asked. Emma pursed her lips as she looked at her options and made a decision.

“Uh, two loaves please. That should carry us through. Oh, and a pastry.” Emma grinned. Regina clucked her disapproval from behind her. Emma hadn’t noticed her join her, and only jumped ever so slightly. Hardly perceptible. Completely respectable. Still, Regina snickered.

“That’ll be six pence, my dear.” The merchant brought over the bread and tucked the pastry into their basket with a cloth.

“Hey, what’s the celebration for?” Emma asked as she fished her coin from her purse.

“You haven’t heard?” The merchant seemed surprised. “The Dark One has been defeated, at last! Peace awaits us, at last.”

Regina stepped closer, spine as straight as a rod.

“Oh? What a relief. Do you know how it happened?” Regina asked, feigning nonchalance – but Emma recognized the tightness of her lips, the wrinkle of her nose.

“Well, surely you know of the prophecy?” the merchant asked.

“We’ve heard of it,” Emma answered. It took everything to keep herself from laughing. “We’re not quite that far out of town.”

The merchant smiled good-naturedly.

“Well, rumour had it the Beadurian warrior deserted. Their kingdom was at a loss, came to the King and Queen of Baloc to seek an alliance. We didn’t believe them at first.” The merchant leaned closer and lowered her voice conspiringly. “But, well, I’d say that must have been it because they’ve now announced a merging of the two Kingdoms. Not since my grandfather’s days had we even seen cooperation! But this, a formal alliance. I suppose in drastic times…”

“Drastic times indeed,” Emma muttered.

“Well, it must have worked. Our warrior led the charge, found the Spell of Hredsigor and together, our kingdoms banished the Dark One from this realm for good.” The merchant became more excited with every breath.

“Why, I suppose that’s quite the fairy tale ending,” Emma blurted out. The merchant nodded. “Don’t hear too much of those these days.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Regina said not quite under her breath. Thankfully the merchant had already been pulled away to tend to another customer.

This time, Emma did laugh. It was inescapable, bubbling from her chest and echoing up to the heavens.

“Liars, the lot of them,” Regina muttered. She could hardly even finish her thought. Which, of course, made it all the funnier to Emma.

“Maybe the real weapon was the alliance we made along the way,” Emma mused. That earned her a sharp elbow to the side. Emma feigned injury, bending over and wobbling on her feet as she held her midsection.

Regina started walking to another stall, and Emma ran a few paces to catch up.

“Banished the Dark One, my ass.” Regina was still seething. Emma slipped her hand into Regina’s and pulled to stop her forward momentum. Regina turned around to face her.

“Hey,” Emma whispered, stepping closer. The crowd moved around them, but Emma stayed still. “I’m so glad we met. So, everything else, well, fuck everything else. I’m glad I met you.”

Regina’s eyes softened. Emma brought Regina’s hand up to her lips, placed a light kiss against the knuckles.

“Dance with me,” Emma nodded toward the musicians playing in the square.

“No one else is dancing,” Regina countered, but she was smiling and already started walking with Emma toward the music.

“Since when do we need music to dance?” Emma winked. She brought their joined hands into the air by their sides, and pulled Regina closer with a hand on her waist. Regina settled her free and on Emma’s shoulder and they began moving in time with the music.

The notes floated and fluttered in the air around them as they swayed, sashayed and spun.

At the end of the song Regina pulled back and looked Emma in the eyes.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” Regina whispered. Emma beamed, and beamed, and beamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this fic that is so near and dear to my heart. I hoped you enjoyed the adventure as much as I did.


End file.
